Truces
by Nel2000
Summary: Nel isn't about to trust Albel just because the war is over.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are copyrighted by other people. I am using them without permission but with no intent to harm.

A/N: This tests the "M" rating here and there. Reader discretion advised!

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><p><strong>Truces<strong>

As soon as she saw him, Nel realized her surprise was misplaced. He had, after all, been in her bedroom before. Still, this time it was broad daylight. Although he did his share of skulking in the shadows, he was a soldier rather than a spy and therefore lacked her own stealth skills. Hopefully no one noticed him entering her private quarters. And **very** hopefully none of the domestic servants had happened across him sprawled carelessly on **her** bed, long limbs encased in light battle armor and head tilted forward, unsheathed katana resting at his side. She couldn't imagine what the Queen would make of such a report. Or Claire.

She closed the door behind her sharply. Briefly she debated locking it, but she felt vulnerable and opted to leave a quick escape route. Not that he had offered her any violence since the war ended and their forced alliance began, but old habits died hard and she did not trust him.

He did not turn his head at her entrance, but one of his long-fingered hands lifted from its resting place on her bedcovers, gently cupping the katana's hilt. He made no other acknowledgment of her presence. Nel could discern no tension in his body or in the fingers so lightly cradling his weapon. Yet she could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, and knew that he was using his shaggy bangs as a cover for a sideways glance. Perhaps he would have been a good spy, after all; without her runeological training, she would not have known he was looking at her.

If he could be casual, then so could she. Nel set her hands against her hips and leaned her shoulders against the door. "Nox," she prompted.

"Zelpher," he drawled, mocking her use of his last name.

"Obviously you beat us back from the caves."

"Obviously the captain of the Black Dragon Brigade **would**. I've been waiting here since daybreak. I would have given you a lift, had you asked."

"Fayt was angry. He needed to walk it off."

"I don't believe I mentioned giving **him **a lift." He turned his head just enough for her to see the bright gleam of his eyes through his shaggy bangs. "For that, you would have had to ask **nicely**."

"What do you want, Albel?"

The long fingers wrapped themselves more securely around the katana's hilt. "What a curious question," he murmured. He unfolded from the bed with the sinuous grace that marked him as a swordsman. Albel Nox was not a large man, but he was tall, and he was imposing, and suddenly Nel's room was a great deal smaller than it had been before. "My lover vanishes weeks ago without a word, without a **trace**, then one day I look up from my solitary training and there she is, standing behind that **brat **of a boy. And what does she have to say to me? **Nothing**. Not a single word. So ... what do **you **think I could **possibly **want?"

He had always been able to cut with his words as well as his sword. All the nobles of Airyglyph were good at it, but Albel's precision use of language and inflection made him especially adept. Nel narrowed her eyes and stood her ground. "First of all, 'lover' is putting it a bit strong–"

"Oh, I beg your pardon. Do you prefer 'fuck toy'?"

She checked, but just for the second it took her to realize that she had never, once, heard him swear except when he was in bed, and usually then he really didn't know what he was saying. "–and, **second**;" she continued through her teeth, "it wasn't as if I had much of a choice. I was caught up in a battle between Fayt and the Vendeeni and wounded with an off-world weapon. They had to take me to their ship to heal."

"Their ... ship?"

"Yes. I've been 'in space', as they call it. I've been to other worlds. I learned –" and here Nel stopped, because she still didn't understand exactly what the Creator was, only that Fayt's little group represented the last hope in preventing the Creator from destroying the galaxy. "I've seen so much," she finally finished.

"**I've** seen how they communicate through the air," Albel replied coldly. "You could not get a message to me? Your commander, Claire, said you were last seen heading toward the Kirsla Ruins. I nearly tore the place apart looking for you."

It had not occurred to Nel to ask Fayt if she could use his technology to contact anyone on Elicoor, or even that anyone would notice that she had vanished. With the war over and her purpose lost, leaving word did not seem necessary. When she reported to the Queen upon her return, the Holy Mother said she believed she would never see Nel again. Nel had wondered at the rebuke in her leader's voice. Albel was not the only one angry with her.

And he was very, very angry. He was quick to snipe at people, but Nel had fought at his side often enough during recent months to know he was not a man who lost his cool easily. There were spots of color high on his pale face, and his bright eyes were sparking with temper. She had only seen Albel look like this once before, after it took the combined force of Fayt, Cliff and herself to defeat him outside the Becequerel Mines.

She slid her hands down her hips toward her thigh guards, where her daggers were sheathed.

He saw, of course. In such a small space, it was hard to be subtle with her movements. There was a strange twist of emotion across his usually-expressionless face before Albel turned his back to her, sheathing his sword with one swift movement. He stood in that negligent way he had, weight shifted over one hip so that the line of his body formed a smooth curve, arms dangling loosely. It was a deceptive stance. Nel knew he could draw in a flash from that position. She drummed the fingers of her right hand against the cloth encasing her dagger before deciding against drawing her own weapon. He watched her from the edges of his eyes, head turned just enough for him to glance back over his shoulder. The silence was stifling. She was still puzzled over this odd visit of his, and not sure what she should say to him. "I did not realize Claire sent you to look for me," she finally offered. "I'm sorry you had to waste your time like that."

He gave that soft, irritated snort that he usually reserved for people who were being especially dense. "It does seem to have been a waste of time," he agreed. "Are you flying off to the stars with the young fool again, then?"

"I don't know what we're going to do next. It's pretty strange being back. Everything's changed, and yet this room is just as I left it. It's all like a dream, except I don't know if the last few weeks were the dream, or if I'm dreaming now."

"Hmmm." The grunt had a non-committal quality to it. Albel continued to eye her over his shoulder. "Tell you what. Should you decide that you'd prefer being awake to sleeping, I'll be at Crosell's Lair. Search me out there."

"I'll let Fayt know. I'm sure he will want to duel with you again before he leaves. He has to get stronger before we go to fight the Creator, and you're the only one in his class."

There was a flash of white as he rolled his eyes. "Oh, by all means bring the rest of the maggots. I'm sure they'll enjoy a repeat of me wiping the floor with their boy leader. I'd love to make my dramatic exit here, Nel, but you're blocking the door."

Her gaze wary, Nel stepped away from the door. It put her closer to Albel, too close, really, for although she had not thought of him at all during her hectic time away, it didn't mean she had forgotten. Here, in this room with him close enough for her to breathe in his scent, it was all too easy to remember.

Even though she expected it and was braced for it, Albel made no attempt to touch her on his way out. He simply nodded in her general direction and lounged through the door with that peculiar boneless stride of his. He didn't even slam the door behind him. It was all very ... odd.

As odd as the memories now flooding her mind, refusing this time to be banished to the recesses of her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are copyrighted by other people. I am using them without permission but with no intent to harm.

A/N: Albel and Nel use the titles of their own countries when referring to each other. For example, Nel calls Albel "General," the equivalent rank of his Captain's title in her country.

**Truces, Part II**

Looking back, Nel realized 'it' had begun about a week after they were forced to accept Albel into their party. They rested, stocked up on supplies, and finally started the long hunt for the oldest of the air dragons. Albel was not shy about calling the party's haste to reach the Barr Mountains 'foolish'. "It's the dead of winter. The foothills are passable, but most of the higher paths will be blocked. We should wait a few more weeks."

Fayt tried, once again, to explain about the Vendeeni and the immediate threat they presented, only to be rewarded with a cold stare. "I don't know how you convinced that old fool Woltar of your absurd story, but I don't buy it. Beings from another world? Preposterous." Which effectively ended the conversation, because Fayt had already told him that half their expedition members were from other worlds and Albel had scornfully refused to give any credence to such an assertion. Fayt settled for telling him, sharply, that they were going **now** and that was that. Albel seethed in silence during the journey to the mountainous region, which suited the rest of the party members just fine.

Unfortunately, Albel's dire pronouncement proved correct. Normally a dry area covered with dust and bare rocks, the Barr Mountains were blanketed in a thick layer of snow. Struggling through the wet slush was time-consuming, especially with most of their party unused to the vagrancies of solid precipitation. When Fayt led them into one snowdrift too many, Albel snapped that they all really **would **become worms if they didn't let someone familiar with the terrain take over. Wasn't that why they required his presence?

"Your king insisted you had to come with us as part of the peace treaty," said Fayt, not with any accusation in his voice but not very kindly either. "That's why you're here."

"Oh, I dunno. He makes pretty good dragon bait," drawled Cliff, grinning. "It's the hair. Looks like scales from a distance, so they think he's one of them and come running."

"Shut up, maggot."

His smirk widening, Cliff threw up his hands as if to placate the swordsman. "Geez, no sense of humor. Can't you take a joke? Obviously your hair is more like a horse's mane than anything else."

Snorting, Albel slung his katana across his shoulder guard, tapping lightly with the dull side of the blade. "I suppose it's up to us to scout ahead, since these fools have no idea how to move in snow," he said scornfully.

Nel actually looked over her shoulder to see who he could possibly be talking to before realizing his shadowed gaze was leveled in her direction. "Me?" She couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice, or the beginning of suspicion, although she had nothing in particular to be suspicious about. Where Albel was concerned, it was just general good sense to be suspicious. "You're joking."

"You were a spy in my country during the war, were you not? You must have some familiarity with snow. Any of **these **worms would end up in a snow bank." He glared at the wall of ice currently blocking their path. "**Another **one."

It was a compliment of sorts, albeit the single most backhanded one she had ever received. Nel glanced toward the others. Cliff gave his usual careless shrug. Little Roger just looked cold, arms hugging his body tightly, biting down on his lips to keep his teeth from unmasculine chattering. Maria silently gazed at Fayt; for all that she was supposed to be the leader of the off-worlders, she deferred to him more often than not. Sighing, Fayt glanced up at the darkening sky. "Go ahead and scout out possible routes for tomorrow. We'll set up camp here."

Cliff had a parting shot. "Try not to get caught by the dark, hotshot. It would be **real **embarrassing if one of us warm-climate types had to come rescue **you**."

"Shut **up**, maggot."

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><p>They trudged along for several minutes in relative silence that was broken only by the crunch of their boots in the snow. At a three-way fork in the path Nel started to take the northern one knowing that the caverns that were their eventual goal lay in that direction, but Albel gave a curt shake of his head as he headed for the westernmost branch. "This time of year it gets blocked about 500 meters up," he said.<p>

"It's still the most direct route–"

"Being a slave to the compass is what keeps bringing us to impasse after impasse. Do you people want my help or not?"

_Not,_ she thought, although Nel opted against saying that out loud. Instead, "Slow down," she snapped.

"Oh, excuse me. I thought you were a warrior. Lacking endurance, are we?"

"You're a foot taller than I am, which means that calf-deep in snow for you is thigh-deep for me. Either you break the trail alone or you slow down so I can keep pace."

His slouching stride checked briefly. "I'll break the trail," he said, to her surprise. A small smirk creased his cheek. "We **do** believe in chivalry in my country, you know. Besides," he added as he stepped in front of her, "the snow will thin out in a dozen meters or so."

Nel couldn't decide if she was impressed or irritated when, sure enough, following a northerly bend, the thick blanket of snow covering the path tapered to no more than a few inches. "This is our best bet for tomorrow, then," she commented as she stopped beside him.

She was ignored. Something on the path in front of him held his attention. "Hel-lo. What have we here?"

Following his gaze, Nel nearly stamped her foot in frustration. She settled for speaking sharply. "That, General, is a tree. It's a very big tree. It's a very big tree that is taking up the entire path." She looked at the solid wall to one side of the tree, then at the immediate plunge on the other side. "This way is useless. We'll have to go back to camp and try the eastern pass in the morning."

"Would you say," he asked with detached interest, "that tree appears to be a very, very old one?"

"Considering its trunk is larger around than I can reach, yes. Albel, we really don't want to be caught here once night falls. We have to go back."

"How curious," Albel remarked as he drew his sword. Nel stepped hastily away, but his concentration was still on the tree. "How curious indeed – seeing as this very, **very **old tree **wasn't** here six months ago." Grasping the katana hilt with both hands, he sprang forward with a battle cry.

The boughs of the tree snapped forward in an attempt to drill its attacker. Albel nimbly spun and skipped aside. Having survived many treks through Duggas Forest, Nel knew that not all trees were as sedentary or benign as one might think. Startled she was, but not to the point of immobility. Raising her hands over her head, she shouted, "Firebolt!" The runes embedded in her hands sparked as fire arched from her fingers. The demon tree shrieked in anger and whirled its branches against the nearby snow in an effort to smother the flicking flames.

"Behind!" Albel shouted at her.

In a flash her twin daggers were in her hands, crossed behind her nape to protect her vulnerable neck. She grunted as something struck against them and rebounded off with a keening cry. Whirling, she confronted one of the dangerous medium-sized dragons, shaking its head wildly. Nel had caught the edges of its razor-sharp maw against her blades. Glaring at her balefully, it sucked in air with a long inhale. _It can paralyze with its breath! _Throwing herself to the side, Nel gasped as she nearly rolled over the edge of the path's sheer drop-off. _No room to maneuver._ She was going to have to stay put, and hope her rune-based magic could keep the beast at a distance.

"Air slash!" she heard Albel shout. The dragon was knocked off its feet by the unexpected whirlwind that crashed into its side. Nel chanced a quick glance toward Albel. In spite of his own lack of fire attacks, he appeared to have the situation with the demon tree under control, dancing in and out of its lashing branches as he carved it up with surgical precision. His distance attack gave her the momentary advantage over the dragon. Nel lunged for the quick kill. A minute later she was wiping her blades against her thigh guards with a grimace of distaste.

Behind her was the crunch of footfalls. Nel spun in a low crouch, relaxing as she saw it was only Albel striding towards her through the snow. Looking beyond him, she saw that the demon tree had been reduced to so much kindling, although not the sort that any sane person would ever try to burn. Nel meant to make some light comment along the lines of _That got the blood pumping._ The words never had the chance to leave her mouth. Albel reached out, snagged the shoulder of her sleeveless tunic, and before she could so much as grunt in surprise had hauled her against him. Off-balance, she clutched at his shoulders in an instinctual effort to maintain her footing, and therefore had no way of fending him off when he dipped his head to press his lips against hers.

At least, that was her excuse for the first few seconds. Her excuse for the next few was that the repeated flicks of his tongue against the closed line of her mouth distracted her and she was rather curious about where the hand he was sliding down her back was going to end up. Then she decided that, while the runes embedded under her skin generated enough energy to take the edge off the cold, she was still far from warm and he was very, very warm indeed. By the time his hand splayed against the small of her back to gently pull her into him and he gave up the tongue-flicking in favor of suckling on her lower lip, her thought processes had shut down entirely.

Releasing the death-grip on his shoulders, her fingers slid up into the shaggy mane of hair that halo'd his head. Albel no longer needed to encourage her to press against him. He rewarded her with soft strokes up and down her back, and when he finally released her mouth she was gasping. She stared wide-eyed at the sky as he bent her across his arm and bit small kisses along her jaw and throat. His hair was brushing against her face, tickling her nose and giving her the urge to sneeze. It snapped her out of her abstracted state, although since she had her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders as her fingers twisted and tangled through his hair, she didn't think she could act very outraged. Carefully she loosened her grasp, and he promptly did the same, allowing her to step back slightly although his hands rested casually on her waist.

"What was that?" Nel tried to demand, but since the words were tinged with genuine bemusement they lacked the force she meant to put into them.

His cool bright eyes were brighter than usual, and perhaps not so 'cool' at the moment. "Very nice, I would say," he murmured. His head tilted to the side. "Are you a virgin?"

For a moment she gaped at him. "What the hell business is it of yours?"

"None," Albel answered immediately, "except that you kiss like a virgin." He raised a hand from her waist to brush a thumb gently across her mouth. "I suppose it comes of being in an all-female army. No one to practice with."

"There are plenty of men in our army!"

"Are there? It's probably just an Airyglyph fantasy, then." The tips of his fingers trailed down her throat, to rest lightly against the rune just over her breasts. "You should hear some of the stories they tell about these things."

Nel arched her brows, feeling some of her normal equanimity returning to her. "You mean, 'breasts'? I suppose that's what comes of being in an all-**male** army. No idea of what the female anatomy entails."

Smirking, Albel traced a few of the rune's curves, forcing Nel to repress shivers that had nothing to do with the cold. "We both have gaps in our education," he said agreeably. Folding his fingers around her neck, he stroked under her jaw with his thumb to bring her head up. "We'll have to do something about that, then," he breathed, feathering a kiss across her mouth.

_No wonder he's getting the wrong idea, _thought Nel. _Somehow my hands ended up on his shoulders again..._ She shifted her grasp, meaning to take her hands away, but she couldn't resist dragging the tips of her fingers across his chest as punishment for that 'virgin' crack. He gasped against her mouth, and the hand resting on her waist clenched, bringing her hard against him. There was a disorienting 'clang' accompanied by an unpleasant jarring sensation. Startled, the two sprang apart.

After a blank moment of silence, Albel began to laugh. "Well, there's one thing we've learned that we didn't know before! If two people wearing selected bits of armor grab each other the wrong way, they set off shockwaves!" Running a hand through his hair, he grinned at her. Nel was struck by how young he appeared in that moment. For six years the lightening raids conducted by his Black Brigade had justly stuck terror into the hearts of her fellow soldiers, and she only now realized he was probably no older than she was. "Just as well. I prefer a bed to a snowbank. I'll have to get a private room the next chance we have to stay at an inn."

"Don't assume too much."

The smile lingering on his lips, he gazed at her steadily. "Who said you were invited? Perhaps I just need some private time. Precious little of that these last few days."

Slanting an appraising look towards the sky, Nel inclined her head toward in the direction they had come from. "We're going to be stuck with just carcasses for company if we don't get moving soon. I suppose that won't bother you, as fond of maggots as you are."

Albel's mouth twisted ruefully. "Since I'm hanging out with you lot, I must be **terribly** fond of them," he agreed, but he turned away from her and Nel felt as if she could finally breathe normally again. Even though the darkness overtook them long before they returned to Fayt's position, Albel led her unerringly through the maze of paths, and neither "fool" nor "maggot" passed his lips until they were in the company of the others.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are copyrighted by other people. I am using them without permission but with no intent to harm.

**Truces, Part 3**

Even with Albel leading the way through the maze of paths, it took several days to track down the air dragon rumored to be deep within the hidden caverns. The many monsters they had to battle slowed them down considerably. Once they even had to retrace their steps when the healing supplies ran low. Several of Albel's men were camped out at the mountains' base, unable to approach closer for fear the wild dragons would try to liberate their own tame mounts. One of them relinquished his mount to Albel while the other Airyglyph soldiers helped the rest of Fayt's party clamber on to the beasts. Albel stared down at Nel, his expression irritated. "Well?"

Looking around, Nel realized she would have to ride with him or remain behind. Being a prosaic woman, she did not waste time on protest. She placed her left foot over his and grabbed onto the dragon's tack, swinging up to settle with her back against Albel's front. He reached around her to take the reins. "Don't try anything," she muttered, not looking at him.

"On a dragon? Give me some credit, woman." Although it was his usual biting tone, Nel fancied she heard a thread of amusement through the sarcasm.

"I haven't noticed you being especially inhibited anywhere else."

His snort was more than half a chuckle. It was true; he was quite adept at stealing brief kisses and caresses in the dark recesses of the various trails they had traveled through. If she gave him an irritated shove or hissed, "not here," he promptly left her alone. Perhaps his willingness to back off was why Nel hadn't decked him yet. If there were moments between battles when she appreciated the comfort of a quick cuddle, she didn't admit that even to herself.

"We're going to Peterny," he told her. "If you behave yourself, I'll see about getting that room."

"I hope you'll be very happy by yourself in it," Nel snapped.

"I'm sure fantasizing about you will make me just **scream **," retorted Albel. He clucked at his mount, and the dragon lifted in a whirlwind of air that made any reply impossible. Clenching her teeth, Nel, concentrated on not losing her most recent meal.

Whatever plans he had or fantasies he felt like indulging, the reality of their mission took precedence. Fayt rushed them through their purchases, refusing even to stop in the workshop to see what inventions his contractors had concocted during their absence. "The Vendeeni are not sitting around waiting for us to get prepared," he said tersely when Roger whined that he wanted to rest in a real bed before going back to the mountains. "They have my father. They are willing to destroy all of your kingdoms to get to **me**. Is one night of comfort worth the risk?"

"For some of us, **yes**," muttered Albel. Nel wondered if punching him would raise too many eyebrows. She settled for sharply pinching the flesh next to his kneecap when she was again seated in front of him on the dragon. She felt him flinch, then his arms came around her under the ruse of gathering up the reins and he whispered into her ear, "I'm disappointed, too."

Making up scathing responses kept Nel's mind off of her churning stomach during the long flight back to the Barr Mountains.

-

Although retracing their steps now that they were sure of the route did not take very long, their side trip still used up the better part of a full day. It was a disgruntled group that bedded down in a small cavern behind one of the many waterfalls of the region. Nel drew a watch in the wee hours, which meant her sleep had to be accomplished in shifts. She was not happy when Fayt woke her for her turn at guard, and crankier still when Albel relieved her without needing to be prodded awake himself. Undoubtedly her exhaustion explained why she didn't react when the enemy General rubbed light fingers between her shoulder blades as she walked past him to her billet on the far side of the fire. "Try to relax," he said to her without the usual bite in his tone. "It will be over soon."

Nel was too tired and cross to consider that her lack of response constituted tacit acceptance of his touch. She really couldn't waste the energy in thinking about Albel's strange behavior at all. Fayt was right; too much was at stake. She rolled up in her covers and dozed fitfully until morning.

The next few days were more of the same as they ventured into the fiery interior of the mountains. Despite his familiarity with the outside paths, once they discovered the secret caves with their molten lava pools Albel was as lost as the rest of them. No one in living memory had pressed so far into the monster-infested heart of the Barr Mountains. The Lava Caves themselves were the stuff of myths, many of which the adventurers discovered, to their dismay, were true. There were multiple dead ends and false trails before the party finally stood in front of Crosell, the legendary dragon elder and the only one on the planet capable of lifting the runeological weapons high enough into the atmosphere to attack the orbiting Vendeeni vessels.

Nel wasn't surprised that the haughty beast initially refused to cooperate. Crosell's arrogance reminded her of Albel's. Little wonder Airyglyph's general got along so well with dragons. She and Fayt both tried to speak respectfully to the great dragon in an attempt to persuade it to aid them in their cause. Only Albel addressed it as an equal, not bothering to control the hard edge of sarcasm in his speech. When Crosell challenged them to prove their worth, it directed its scorn towards Albel rather than Fayt indicating that the General was the only one it considered worthy. Although forcing Crosell into compliance took all of their combined skills, Nel thought that, without Albel to provoke it into confrontation, the great dragon elder might well have just snorted in contempt and curled up to nap for several hundred more years.

No doubt her perception of Albel's role in furthering their plan to attack the Vendeeni accounted for her dangerously relaxed frame of mind when she found him pacing outside the castle in Aquios, impatient to begin the assault against their space-faring enemies and chaffing at his inability to do anything to speed up the process.

No doubt.

Pausing on the wide marble steps that led to the palace grounds, Nel set her hands on her hips and studied Albel for a moment. He radiated restless energy. Everything about his posture and movements indicated this was a man of action who was dangerous when bored. The townspeople, who knew nothing more than he was one of the outsiders who accompanied Lady Nel, wisely gave him a wide berth. The male soldiers guarding the gates behind her knew very well who he was and watched their former enemy with hard, suspicious eyes.

He was aware she was there. She could see it in the sidelong glance directed towards her before he turned on his heel to begin another circuit of pacing. Declining to run after him, she remained where she was, sure that sooner or later he would acknowledge her presence.

"Tell those maggots to stop staring at me," he snarled on the next pass. "I'm not going to attack them."

"Are you sure? You're looking especially ferocious this evening, General."

He snorted, and looped away from her again. The distance he traveled was further; he wanted her to follow him. Nell held her position. He paced back. "Are those incompetent engineers of yours any closer to crafting a harness for that beast?"

"I'm sure they are."

He strode away again. Nel did not move. Once more he paced back. Pausing just briefly, he snarled, "If you don't want me to kiss you senseless in front of your men, **Commander**, stop teasing me."

She raised her brows. "I'm teasing you? How?"

"You're breathing. That's enough."

"Your concept of foreplay is very peculiar," she drawled. "Or is that what passes for foreplay in a **man's** army?"

That checked his stride. For a moment Albel stared at her, his narrow eyes slightly widened. When he swung back into his pacing, fresh color rode high on his pale cheeks.

She instigated the conversation on his next pass. "You haven't been into the palace yet."

"Don't expect me to grovel before your queen. We were at war a month ago."

"She's far too busy to receive you now."

"Pointless conversation, then," he growled. Nel let him walk away again. He wasn't going so far anymore.

"I could show you around," she offered with the next approach.

He actually halted this time, eyeing her warily. "I'm not an adherent of your pathetic sun god," he warned. "I have no interest in shrines or temples."

"The temple is worth seeing," Nel said mildly. "Cliff is an atheist, but even he appreciates the art. Still, there's the library, the underground catacombs–"

"Oh, **please**." He turned away again.

"–the private quarters," she continued blandly. "They are pretty nice, you know."

Albel stopped short.

"Nicer than anything you have in Airyglyph, I'm sure. Still, if you aren't interested in comparing–" She shrugged.

He started to say something over his shoulder, paused when he caught sight of the palace guards still watching him from the gates, then turned and stepped closer to her so there was no chance of being overheard. "I have a suite of rooms in the surprisingly-adequate inn you have in this backwater place."

"You may not have noticed, but I have a following around here." Nel grimaced. "I don't like it, but there isn't anywhere I can go in town without having people take note. In the palace, though, no one pays any attention to me."

Albel still hesitated. "Wouldn't you rather ... wait?"

"For what? I thought all you wanted was a bed and a little privacy."

"For everything to be ... settled."

"Nothing has been 'settled' since Fayt's ship fell out of the sky," Nell reminded him. "Half the things that have happened since then are beyond what I can comprehend. Our little war over territory seems so simplistic in comparison."

"That's not what I–"

"Albel, we could be dead in twenty-four hours. There's no point in waiting. Although," she lifted her shoulders in another light shrug, "I have always heard that Airyglyph men were all talk and no action. I'm not surprised to find out that's true. Ten months of snow every year must deaden the pertinent parts."

"This from the woman who kisses like a virgin," Albel retorted.

Nel scowled at him. "I really don't know what you mean by that."

"Hmmm." He tilted his head as he gazed down at her, a small smirk pushing at his thin lips. "Cultural differences, I suppose. Looks like it's up to me to educate you."

"I'm rapidly beginning to regret this," Nel warned him.

"Oh, **do** lead on. I'll be good," Albel promised, his eyes gleaming. "I'll be very, **very **good."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are copyrighted by other people. I am using them without permission but with no intent to harm.

A/N: In this story, Albel doesn't wear a prothesis.

**Truces, Part 4**

Knowing that her presence in the palace was unremarkable but **his **was not, Nel made a point of dragging Albel through several of the public areas so that, should anyone comment to Claire or to the Queen, they would hopefully add that Nel was just doing her duty in playing tour guide for their new ally. She wasn't stalling for time now that the decision had been made and she couldn't retract it. Not at all. For his part, Albel did behave himself, in his own unique way. He grunted in a non-committal manner at appropriate moments and didn't glare too much at the soldiers they passed in the halls. Considering his ready repertoire of cutting comments, Nel thought that was better than could be expected.

Dammit, she **was **stalling.

_Just get it over with,_ Nel told herself._ He's thrown you off balance for weeks with his – attentions? flirting? – with whatever game he's playing. Let him have what he wants and he'll leave you alone. There are more important things to concentrate on right now–_

He murmured quietly, "We don't have to do this." Sensitive words, perhaps, but the tone was his usual one of disinterested scorn, making the comment pure challenge.

Nel's back stiffened. She was tempted to ask Albel to repeat himself, but she had heard him fine the first time and he knew it. "Worried about your stamina?" she mocked.

"Hmph."

"Come on," she said crossly, and marched towards the wing that held her private quarters. She didn't need to look over her shoulder to know he was smirking.

-

They met no one before reaching her private quarters. Although Nel was grateful for the lack of witnesses, she was also fairly sure _someone _should be on patrol duty. She made a mental note to check the roster in the morning.

She didn't bother with a backwards glance as she crossed the threshold into her rooms. Albel was close enough on her heels for her to feel the warmth from his body. As soon as the door shut behind them his arms wrapped around her from behind, his mouth pressing against the side of her neck. He was far more aggressive than men of her own country. Perhaps the novelty was why she tolerated his touch? Folding her arms over his, she leaned back against him, letting her head loll against his armored shoulder. "Careful," he murmured, not moving his mouth from her skin. "Don't want to lock armors again."

"I'm holding still," she pointed out. "Isn't that what women from your country do? Stay as quiet and still as possible?"

"Oh, some of them can be quite vocal."

Reversing his hand to lace his fingers through hers, he raised it to his mouth. She tilted her head up to watch him trace the visible outlines of the rune partially covered by her bracer. "Careful, yourself. You don't want to accidentally trigger something."

Albel dropped her hand as if it really **were **on fire.

Nel chuckled. "Don't tell me that's one of the things 'they' say about runes?"

"That women with them can spontaneously combust if you touch them the wrong way? Yes." He slanted a wary glance down at her. "Not true?"

"That would be telling."

"Hmmm." The hand still on her midriff splayed, digging in and bringing her more firmly against him. "Hold on to your secrets while you may," he said against her ear, the low husky tone sending shivers through her. "I plan on discovering all of them tonight, even if I get burned in the process." Two of his fingers found the seam between her tunic and leggings and began softly circling against her skin. Albel stroked back up her arm with his other hand, fingers lightly dragging, cupped his palm over her shoulder with a gentle squeeze before sliding his fingers over her collarbone, pressing against the rune just under it. It warmed to his touch faster than the encasing flesh. He felt it as well; shuddering, he buried his face against her neck. He appeared to have quite the erotic fascination with her runes. Bringing her own dangling hand up to cup against the side of his head, Nel absently wondered what else 'they' said about women who bore them.

She had to give Albel full marks for finesse. Had she ever imagined what the opposing general would be like as a lover (which she most adamantly had not, ever), it would be that his lovemaking would echo his speech, cold and brief and often inconsiderate. Instead it was more like his swordplay, precise and elegant. He lightly bit down against the leather that covered the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Nel's fingers clenched into his hair. Oh, **so** elegant. He did know all the right spots–

"Nel."

"Umm?"

"This isn't the most romantic thing to say, but I'm getting a terrible crick in my neck." The arm around her waist tightened in an attempt to lift her up a bit. "And for such a tiny creature, you're rather solid. I don't think I can keep you hefted up to my height for very long."

"That your subtle hint that we should lay down?"

Lifting his head from her neck, Albel grinned into her eyes. He had amazing lashes, so dark that his eyes appeared lined with charcoal. "If you're willing to climb onto a step-stool, I'll be perfectly happy to spend more time making out in your foyer." He rested his chin on top of her head, holding her in a loose embrace. "Actually," he murmured after a minute, "this is nice, too."

_Who are you and what have you done with Albel Nox? _thought Nel, but she once more folded her arms over the one looped around her waist as she rested against him. It **was** rather nice just to be held. "How old are you?" she asked abruptly.

"Twenty-four. You?"

"The same. I thought you were older."

Lazily he traced an invisible line from her elbow to mid-bicep and back again, barely moving his fingers to do so. "Thought you were, too. Hard to guess someone's age when you're trying not to be skewered." He gave her arm a light slap and dropped his arms, moving away so suddenly Nel had to take a step to maintain her balance. "I'm ready for the 'lying down' part now."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Nel nodded and walked further into the room. Her sleeping area was kept meticulously clean by the domestic staff. Albel brushed past her, bending over the table next to the bed to turn down the light. Nel raised her brows. She would not have taken him for one that needed 'atmosphere.' He turned to look at her, his gaze slightly challenging. Shrugging, Nel unhooked her high collar and prosaically began to undress.

For a little while he simply stood and watched, eyes shadowed and breath shallow. When she took off her bracers and peeled off her shoulder guards, his breathing hitched. He reached out and lay the tips of his fingers against the newly-revealed runes in her upper arms, lightly tracing the patterns. "Did this hurt?"

Nel **really **wondered what fantasies Airyglyph males wove around runes that made Albel focus more on her arms than her chest. "I don't remember. My talent was discovered early, so I was very young when I was granted the right to bear runes. I've heard that receiving one burns." His hand slid up her arm to cup her shoulder as he lowered his head, but when Nel broke the contact by pushing her wrist against his forearm Albel immediately released her and stepped back. "I'm not interested in getting scratched up," she told him. He looked at her blankly. There was a metallic "ping" as she tapped one nail against his armor. Albel blinked, then nodded and began to work off his own outfit.

Although heavy armor encased his left arm and a metal collar encircled his neck, for the most part Albel's protective gear consisted of leather reinforced with metal strips. He was wiry rather than muscular, whipcord thin without a gram of fat anywhere. When he bent to remove his boots and leggings, the two cloth-covered braids fell over his shoulder, nearly reaching the floor. Nel touched one of them, fingering the satiny covering. Dark hair wreathed his head, but the end of the braid matched the blond spikes that brushed his shoulders. She wondered if the two-toned color was natural. "Do you ever unwrap this?"

Albel straightened up, his expression sardonic. "I **do** have to wash my hair once in a while. It's a pain, though." He caught her face between his hands, fingers sliding behind her ears, thumbs smoothing against her cheeks. "I love your hair. So vibrant. So unusual. I could always pick you out in a sortie."

"I'm lucky to be alive, then," Nel said dryly. "You're going to get another crick in your neck."

He paused, face hovering six inches over hers. "Can't have that," he agreed. One hand left her hair to trail down her neck and trace lightly her spine. Stepping closer to her, Albel bent his knees as fingers tightened under her hip. Suddenly she was plastered skin-to-skin against him, her feet leaving the ground when he straightened, her wide eyes staring directly into his. "Much better," he said huskily before covering her mouth with his.

He kissed like it was the only thing that mattered, mouth pressing and moving gently, tongue lapping at her lips. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Nel mimicked his movements, sipping with soft suction. Shuddering, Albel tried to deepen the kiss. Nel clamped her mouth closed and pulled her head away. "Don't. Don't like that."

"Really?" He sounded breathless but amused. "Hmph. No wonder you kiss like a virgin. I'll have to work on changing your mind another time." Rubbing his nose against hers, he backed up until his legs hit the bed. Deliberately he fell over, twisting so they both landed on their sides. Nel rolled onto her back, panting lightly, arms crossed over her waist as she looked over at Albel. He propped himself up on one elbow and gazed at her body, eyes going first to the violet-hued rune under her collarbone. He seemed very fond of that one, Nel thought with an inward smirk. This time, though, his eyes dipped lower, lingering on her breasts before sweeping down her body, traveling up slowly. Sword-calloused fingers lightly covered one breast, spread so the side of one rubbed against the protruding nub. "I wondered what color your nipples were," he said in a low, intense voice. "Red as your hair? Pale as your skin?" He lowered his head to touch his mouth against the swell just over his fingers, then moved his hand to allow his lips access, suckling strongly but briefly. Shifting, he pressed his mouth against her stomach before lifting his head to stare into her face. "Anything else you don't like that I should know about?"

"I'll let you know. You?"

"Oh, I like everything," he purred, "especially here," and he touched her with both hands, fingers spread and pressing, stroking along the planes of her body," and here," down her strong legs, to the knees and up again, "and especially here," and the fingers on her thighs moved to her wet center, and Nell gasped and dug her hands into the bedcovers. "I like everything so much, I don't know where to begin. Suggestions?"

"You're doing fine," Nel managed.

Shifting again, but leaving his fingers where they were, Albel pressed his face to the side of her neck and nibbled along her elegant throat. Dimly thinking she should participate as well, Nel forced one of her hands to release its death-grip on the cloth underneath her and raised it to Albel's shoulder, pushing. Grumbling in his reluctance to release her, he allowed her to slowly roll him onto his back. She hovered over him for a moment, eyeing his long, smooth torso and narrow hips, wondering where to start. When she placed her fingers in the middle of his chest, he sucked in a breath and covered her hand with his. "Don't touch," she scolded him. "My turn." His eyes widened and his hand fell away. Under her touch, his heartbeat accelerated.

When Nel straddled him at the waist, he touched her thighs as if to hold her by them but she shook him off. "Do I have to tie you down?" she threatened. The sound that squeezed from Albel's throat was somewhere between a grunt and groan. He flung his arms out to the sides as if he didn't trust himself, palms facing upwards and flexing compulsively.

She started by drawing abstract patterns against his flat pectorals. "Your nipples are darker than mine," she commented, rolling her thumbs over them lightly. After glancing at her breasts as if to compare, he closed his eyes in an effort to maintain control. He was breathing through his open mouth now, the light sheen covering his body facilitating her touch. Nel scooted back a bit and felt his tumescence against her rear. Reaching behind her hip, she pressed it against her skin and watched his teeth dig into his lower lip. For a moment she played with him, testing the weight and girth. "You're thick."

"You make me that way," Albel gritted, opening his eyes to stare sightlessly at the ceiling.

Nel slid off and knelt next to his hips, studying his penis. Fully erect, it arched towards his stomach, swollen and tender-looking. She touched the velvety flesh underneath the head, startling another strangled sound from him. Wrapping her hand loosely around the shaft, she rubbed the tip delicately with her thumb, then lowered her mouth. Albel jack-knifed to a sitting position at the first moist touch, propping himself up with locked elbows as he gasped repeatedly. She started to suckle the tip, but within a few seconds he grabbed her under the armpits and dragged her up, hauling her against him as he kissed her with blind hunger. For an instant his grip was bruising, then it eased as his mouth softened against hers. "Too much," he murmured.

Pressing her knees against his hips, Nel could feel the ridge of muscle trapped between their bodies, hot and damp against her stomach. "Like this?" she asked.

"**Yes**," Albel hissed.

She raised to her knees for leverage, freeing his erection and garnering another painful-sounding groan from Albel. One of his hands smoothed across her skin until it reached the small of her back; the other cupped her head, fingers threading restlessly through her hair. Teasing him, Nel lowered herself but purposefully missed, sliding him against the slick folds of her body. Bending his head, he bit off two words into her ear – "Finish it" – before burying his open mouth against the side of her neck.

"What's your hurry?" she chastised lightly, scratching her nails lightly across his shoulders. He shuddered with restraint, nipping none-too-gently against her flesh. Reaching between their bodies, Nel gripped him firmly, fingers caressing the loose skin. "You're at the edge, aren't you? Maybe you should just let go."

"You'll get yours," he mumbled insistently between scattered kisses along her neck. "**Do** it."

Positioning herself more carefully this time, Nel started to sink around him. She had to steady herself by digging into his shoulders. He **was **wide; the stretching sensation stung. Pressure was exerted at the small of her back as he coaxed her to take it further, whispering disjointed phrases of encouragement against her skin. Panting a little from exertion and discomfort, Nel grimly bore down until she encased him fully.

As she paused to catch her breath, she felt fingertips smoothing away the frown lines on her forehead. "Relax," said Albel, sounding more in control of himself. He pulled back a bit to grin at her. "This is the good part."

With one arm locked by his side for support, he touched her everywhere with his free hand, feathering light touches over her runes, shaping and molding her breasts, lightly etching his nails across her stomach and thighs. All the while Nel remained still with her head slightly bowed, her arms loosely looped around his neck with wrists dangling limply, quite over her discomfort but enjoying the slow churning of pleasure that was beginning to spread from a point deep within. When she finally ventured a small flex of her hips, the effect on both of them was electric. Albel gasped then moaned, his hand stilling and his head falling back, while the pleasure within her coalesced into platinum-white heat. Suddenly she spasmed, fingers flexing and relaxing in mid-air as her head lolled loosely on her neck.

When she came back to herself, Nel found him watching her, his lids so heavy only a gleaming sliver crescent indicated his eyes were open at all. His fingers feathered across the rune on her chest before Albel grabbed her shoulder and pulled her against him. "Again," he whispered. Smirking a bit, Nel kissed his smooth throat and began to move. Every few strokes she had to pause to savor another pleasurable spasm, and every time that happened Albel would groan out broken words that made no sense. His patience snapped and he abruptly reversed their positions, pulling almost completely out of her and driving back in with force. Gasping, Nel wrapped her arms around him and bit into the flesh over his breast as he shuddered and shouted out his release, pressing her deeply into the mattress. Collapsing, he rested heavily on her for a minute before shifting his weight down and burying his face between her breasts, mindlessly mouthing at her flesh as he panted. Eventually his breathing steadied and he stilled. "Shall I stay?" he asked.

He **did** sound more than half asleep. "For a while, if you like."

"Hmmm." Albel moved his weight to the side, nuzzling his face against her neck, one hand loosely covering her breast. He was asleep within minutes. Feeling sticky and a bit claustrophobic, Nel shrugged out of his light grasp and turned onto her side, facing away from Albel. Blanking her mind, she started to count backwards from one hundred, drifting off herself somewhere between 'forty' and 'thirty'.

He wasn't there when she woke up, which was as Nel wanted it.

However, Albel was not done with her yet.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are copyrighted by other people. I am using them without permission but with no intent to harm.

-

**Truces, Part 5**

Mid-morning found Nel on the balcony overlooking the palace's painstakingly-manicured garden. An impressive-enough sight normally even for the non-botanically inclined, the garden was made more so by the presence of the great dragon Crosell in the midst of it. If dragons could scowl, then that was what the mighty beast was doing, although in truth Nel didn't know enough about dragons to be completely sure. Perhaps they all normally bore sour expressions when surrounded by a horde of humans poking and proding in the name of science.

"At least another twenty-four hours, that's what the engineers are saying," Cliff reported, folding his arms nonchalantly. "Probably longer."

Nel glanced over at Fayt. Dragons were hard for her to read, but not humans. Fayt's expression could definitely be termed a 'scowl'. "Why is this taking so long?" the young man demanded.

Cliff shrugged. "Very large weapon, really big dragon, never been done before – you do the math."

"**Dammit."**

"Kid, we all want to rescue your father, not to mention spare the planet another Vendeeni bombardment. Nothing we can do to speed time up, though." Cliff slanted a shrewd glance at Fayt before continuing in an over-casual tone. "'course, that doesn't mean you have to hang around here and glare at the poor runologists all day. Why don't you gather up Maria so you can both go lend a hand? They probably won't let you handle their precious weapons, but they can't object to you supervising the weapon's housing. After all, they've already acknowledged that **your** engineering skills are superior to theirs."

Fayt brightened a bit at the thought of doing something useful, but then frowned at Cliff. "Hey, **you're** the best engineer of all of us. Why don't you come along?"

"Three's a crowd, kid."

Flushing slightly, Fayt protested, "It's not **like** that! We hardly know each other!"

"All the more reason for me not to be around. I couldn't help but show you up." Fayt and Nel both rolled their eyes at the same time, which made Cliff laugh. "Anyway, I was going to spend the day at the forge. Fighting all those dragons in the Barr Mountains made me realize that my gear needs upgrading."

"I could help with that–"

"Oh, I thought I'd get the hot spy to lend me a hand," Cliff drawled, winking at her.

Folding her arms, Nel gave him a level stare before shrugging. "I suppose I can spare the time. I wanted to synthesize that fire shielding we found with my father's knives, anyway."

"There ya go! You help me with mine, I'll help you with yours."

Dropping a hand to the knife strapped to her thigh, Nel half-unsheathed it and asked sweetly, "Just **what** kind of help was it you needed again?"

Cliff's posture turned defensive as he nervously scrubbed his hand against the back of his neck. "Scar-**ee**," he muttered under his breath. "Just help stoking the fire in the workshop, honest."

After a moment of consideration, Nel decided not to hear the innuendo that was still in his voice and slammed the knife back into its sheath. Both men winced slightly. Fayt was suddenly quite happy to seek out Maria. Cliff fell into step just behind Nel as she strode back into the palace, and was silent until they approached the exit. "Wait a sec." He veered towards the doorway that led to the temple. Surprised, Nel followed him.

She was brought to a dead stop when she saw the figure sitting alone in the back pew.

"Hey ya," said Cliff casually as he folded his arms against the pew's high back. "I see you're still here. Found enlightenment yet?"

Albel cast an irritated glance up. "You again. What is it, worm?"

"I'm getting a forging line together. You interested?"

"Hardly," snorted Albel, returning his scowling gaze to the statue of Apris centered in front of the alter.

"The artwork isn't going anywhere, pal."

"Hmph. This over-sentimentalized slop can hardly be called 'art,' and I'm not your pal, fool."

"With an attitude like that, you're not going to be anyone's pal, **pal**. We could use your help."

"'We'?" queried Albel in an uninterested fashion.

"The lady wants to upgrade her daggers. Working with weapons of that power magnitude can be tricky. It'll go easier with more people."

There was a brief hint of tension in the long arm stretched along the pew's back. Albel turned his head to look over his shoulder. His gaze briefly crossed Nel's, then his eyes went back to the statue.

Nel wasn't sure what to say to him. _Hi, there; last time I saw you we were both naked_ was hardly appropriate considering the surroundings, although a perverse corner of her mind thought it might be worth it just for the expression on Cliff's face. "What are you doing here?" she demanded instead.

Another snort from Albel. "Attempting to see the appeal, I suppose."

"From what I understand, the guy got to marry three women at the same time," responded Cliff. "Hard **not** to see the appeal in that."

Nel glared at Cliff's back, fingers itching to throw a dagger. Albel chuckled harshly. "I daresay, although it's a weak man who can't deal with a woman one-on-one." He turned his head again, deliberately holding Nel's gaze this time. "Wouldn't you agree, Commander?"

"If you guys are going to mock my religion, do it outside my hearing," snarled Nel.

"We weren't mocking," protested Cliff. "We were just admiring the guy's stamina."

Albel's eyes hooded. "Stamina is **very** important," he concurred in a smokey voice that made an involuntary shiver snake across Nel's back. "Surely you'd agree with **that**, Commander."

Nel couldn't trust herself to speak for fear she would say something so harsh in this holy place it would get her banned from the Church for life. Cliff, an arrested note in his voice, asked, "Wait a minute. What are we talking about?"

"Why it is you need me for your pathetic forging attempts, fool. My stamina." With a heavy sigh, Albel flowed to his feet. "Certainly I'm getting nothing accomplished here. I might as well make myself useful somewhere else. Are you two coming or not?"

-

If Cliff had asked her ahead of time, Nel would have vetoed the suggestion that they include Albel as part of their forging team. Not (or so she insisted to herself) out of any morning-after awkwardness, but because she had worked with him in a team once before and it had been disastrous. Although like many soldiers Albel had a rough-and-ready ability to prepare food, their attempt at a cooking collaboration in Kirsla had resulted in a large mound of inedible organic matter. Albel had finally turned his nose to the ceiling and refused to further participate, unfortunately right when Nel was in the middle of the most delicate part of her concoction, adding ingredients that called for exact timing. They had exchanged a few sharp, pithy comments and parted company, both in foul tempers.

It was only a few days later that he had kissed her for the first time after that brief, hard battle in the Barr Mountains.

Which was really not what Nel needed to remember at the moment. Or ever.

She needed something other than recent memories to distract herself from the sight of one Albel Nox stripped to the waist next to the smithing kiln as he pounded a glowing white-hot dagger into compliance. Cooking might not be his forte, but metalworking was something he obviously excelled at. Holding the fire shielding ready for the next step in the process, Nel fell into a sort of trance, watching the long muscles in his forearm flex as he forced the metal into pliancy. It was a second or two before she realized that his current set of snarls were aimed in her direction.

"If you don't want your father's precious dagger to become so much slag, woman, get over here with that!"

"Hey," chided Cliff mildly as he worked over the second dagger in the set. "That's no way to talk to a lady. No wonder you're still single."

There was a minute pause in Albel's pounding as he stole a sideways glance at Nel before he snorted and returned to his task. "You need to lay the shielding against the blade tip first, Commander," he said in a more equitable voice.

"I know," she snapped, doing so. "Don't treat me like one of your country's helpless little dolls!"

"And that's no tone to use to a guy, although I guess it's the only language Albel the Wicked understands," Cliff grinned.

"Not that it's any concern of **yours**," Albel continued in the same more-even tone, "but I really don't consider myself 'single'." Startled, Nel looked up into his face, but Albel was studiously concentrating on working the fire shielding into the dagger's molten blade and avoided her gaze. "Anyway, aren't you ridiculously older than the rest of us put together, fool?"

Notoriously difficult to insult, Cliff just shrugged (which, since he was still working with her father's dagger, made Nel worry that her other blade might, indeed, become slag in the very near future) and said, "Well, there's single and there's **single**, if you get my drift."

"In other words, he talks a good game, but that's about it," translated Nel dryly.

"Hey!" protested Cliff. "I still have your knife, you know. Better be nice to me for the next five minutes!"

Albel's head tilted down, bangs hiding his eyes. "Five minutes, eh?" he murmured, voice pitched so low Nel barely heard him over the hissing of the fire. "Just as I thought, no stamina. No wonder all he does is talk. "

Nel could feel heat rising in her face that had nothing to do with the nearby kiln. Snatching the completed dagger from the smirking Albel, she deposited it into the tub of water nearby and stepped to Cliff's station, deliberately presenting Albel with her back. She was not going to let him rile her just because he shared her bed once.

And she was **really** going to have to stop thinking about the phrases he hissed against her skin the **last** time he spoke to her in that low, growly voice...

"You okay?" Cliff asked her, also in a tone too low to be overheard.

Nel glared at him.

Grinning in his disarming fashion, "Yeah, you're okay," said Cliff. He set the white-hot edge of the dagger against the smooth surface of the anvil, carefully tapping to set the blade's paper-thin edge. For such a big man, he had a delicate touch when he needed it. Nel had an odd flash of him in a crafting line trying to force his blunt fingers into threading fragile filigree wire. One corner of her mouth twisted wryly at the mental image. He seemed to have a bit of a thing for Mirage. Perhaps the off-world pilot might be able to talk him into designing mystical jewelry...

"That's better," Cliff said. "You've been tense all day. Albel getting to you?"

_You have no idea,_ she thought ruefully, but what Nel said was, "No more than usual." Unfortunately, that was the truth. Far from defusing the tension between them, having sex with Albel only made her more aware of him physically. Speculation had been replaced by knowledge, and the knowledge was sweet indeed...

"Hey, don't drift off on me! I need you to do the incantation for the synthesis to take."

"Sorry," Nel said automatically. She lay the fire shielding over the dagger as Cliff began to stroke it into the metal. "I didn't get much sleep last night." Immediately flinching, she hardly heard as Cliff agreed that sleep was difficult when alien invaders were lurking in the skies above. She cast a cautious glance over her shoulder to see how widely Albel was smirking at her comment.

He wasn't there.

Nel blinked in surprise, trying not to feel indignant. After all, a main reason for giving in to Albel was so that he would leave her alone. She could hardly complain if he did just that.

"**Nel**!" Cliff snapped with an unusual bite to his voice. "Incantation, now!" Bringing her attention back to what they were trying to accomplish, Nel quickly held her hands over the blade, reciting the binding spell. There was an instant when they both thought they had failed as the encasing fire shielding appeared to crack, then the fine lines blurred together and her father's dagger took on a faint reddish hue as it accepted the addition. "Whew! Thought we'd lost it there for a sec." Cliff carefully placed the knife in the same bucket that held its mate before grinning at her. "Overall, though, pretty good work. New gloves for me, stronger armor for Albel, and a very powerful upgrade for you. Too bad we didn't get the fire shielding before fighting a few million smoke-spewing dragons, but we can't have everything."

Nodding, Nel was about to respond when a trill of high-pitched laughter brought her attention to the cooking station on the other side of the workshop. Knowing it was likely just Damda telling the new girl one of his off-color jokes, Nel glanced in the direction of the noise.

It was the new girl, all right, but it wasn't Damda who held her attention. Albel stood by her side holding a large cauldron that she was energetically stirring, smiling down at her with a slightly mocking expression on his face. "It's not going to work," he said. "It never works."

The new girl (what was her name?) pouted prettily. "But Master Damda is helping this time! It will be fine, Sir Albel, I promise!"

"Somehow his participation does not engender me with much hope for success."

"Hey!" came a slurred voice from under the workbench. "This ish my speshialty! How dare you mock my creashion?"

"The maggot speaks! Where have you been, fool? I mock everything. Mayu, you have five seconds before I drop this thing. It's heavy."

_Mayu, _thought Nel. _That's the name. _ Now she understood why Albel spoke to the girl so familiarly. Mayu had been a cook at the Kirsla Training Facility, the staging area for the Black Brigade. Fayt recruited her during a side-trip to the maze-like stone building. Obviously the Black Brigade's leader spent a considerable amount of time in the kitchen, for they acted as if they knew each other quite well.

"Oh, but you're so strong, Sir Albel!" Mayu trilled again with a simper and a becoming blush. "I'm sure you can hold it for a little bit longer."

Albel's response was a long-suffering expression. Evidently he was used to Mayu's peculiar mannerisms. Having never paid any particular attention to the young woman before, Nel took a moment to study her. She was pretty, at least by Aquios standards, although like most Airyglyph females she wore an absurd amount of clothing. Nel had often wondered why they kept so covered up even when they were outside of their snowy homeland. Currently Mayu was gazing up at Albel with a vapid look on her pretty face, batting her eyelashes. Nel had heard of such behavior before, but she had never actually witnessed it. Fascinated, she watched the rapid flutter of the girl's lids and wondered how someone could do that without losing their balance. _It must take a lot of practice. _

Then Nel remembered why it was that Airyglyph women did that. It was to get something they wanted from Airyglyph men.

And it seemed to be an effective technique. Albel sighed dramatically. "I can hold this all day, Mayu. I just don't want to. Hurry up." There was a flick of a glance in Nel's direction. "Why don't you get the Commander to help? She's a fair cook."

"No!" came an exclamation from the general direction of the workstation. A bleary-eyed countenance peered over the station's edge. "Too many cooks spoil the sauce!" proclaimed Damda. "No one else!"

"Sauce?" Albel peered dubiously into the cauldron, then turned his head away with a flinch. "Is that what this is? It's very, ah, pungent."

Mayu also had a new expression of caution on her face. "I thought it was a noodle dish, Master Damda."

"Noodles? Noodles?" Damda laboriously pulled himself upright, at least for a second until he crashed forward onto the station. "I would not waste my talent on mere noodles! No, this is my ultimate creation." He swept one hand out dramatically, which since he was still face down on the countertop probably lacked the grandeur he was hoping for. "I give you ... Howling Fox Cider!" Whereupon he promptly passed out.

"Cider? Oh, wonderful. This is something I can really give my soldiers before combat."

"Sir Albel, I'm so sorry! I thought it was going to be practical."

Albel rolled his eyes. "You always do." He deposited the cauldron none-to-gently next to Damda's head, eyeing it in irritation as gentle sizzling sounds came from its interior. "I'm done."

Mayu clasped her delicate hands together and looked adoringly into Albel's eyes ... or would have, except he had his head tilted forward so that his eyes were hidden under his bangs. Nel thought the adoring gaze probably landed more in the nose region. "Let me make it up to you."

"You can do that by not wasting any more of my time."

Nel couldn't help the grin that tilted her lips up. Whatever his faults (and they were many), Albel could never be accused of being a flirt. For some reason, that realization stifled her building irritation at the girl's mannerisms.

"Now, now," said Cliff as he crossed over from the kiln. "Seriously, you should be nicer to the ladies. I'm sure Mayu's worked very hard on this ..." He looked into the cauldron and, briefly, his good cheer faltered. "...um, stuff."

"I did more than just the cider," insisted Mayu brightly. "We've been working on improving the field rations all day. There are a lot of new items for you to try, Sir Albel. Let me pack it up for you. It has to be better than that awful Aquios hotel food!"

"Somehow I think the end of the world is not the best time for trying experimental dishes. I wouldn't want to get food poisoning and miss the whole thing."

"Hey! Now you're just being rude. Not that it's anything unusual, but–"

"Stay out of this, fool. Mayu and her mother have been involved in a long running conspiracy to fatten me up."

"Well, that's just because you're too thin," pouted Mayu. "Sir Shelby always ate all of our cooking!"

Albel's lips pressed into a very grim smile. "And is he here? No. I rest my case."

"Really, General," said Nel severely. "The contractors work very hard. You should show some appreciation."

He raised his head to look at her, but Nel mistrusted the gleam in his eyes. "I appreciate the contractor that worked on my armor today, at least when she kept her mouth shut. Or maybe especially when she kept her mouth shut."

Nell narrowed her eyes at him as Cliff chuckled. "You still need a lot of work, pal, but that was a little bit less of an insult." He glanced at the still-pouting Mayu and sighed dramatically. "Eh, I can't help it. I'm a sucker for a damsel in distress." Snagging a cup that was probably meant for measuring flour, he dipped it into the cauldron. Nel was sure she head an ominous 'hiss' as it submerged. After eying it dubiously, Cliff took a cautious sip. His brows lifting in surprise, he took the cup away to stare at it incredulously. "Hey – this stuff isn't half bad."

There was a gargle froum the presumably-comatose Damba that sounded vaguely like, "Told ya."

"Mind you," Cliff added to Albel, "it's **really** not something you'd want to give your guys before a battle. They'd fall right off their dragons. Although **we're** not going anyplace for at least a day, right? Let's take this back to the palace."

"Oh, **please**," snorted Albel.

"Killjoy," Cliff groused.

"My suite at the inn is **much** closer," Albel continued blandly. "Coming, Commander?"

"Of course she is. She can't leave sweet little Mayu unchaperoned, can she?"

Cliff's implied invitation made Mayu immediately lose the pout as she beamed at both men. 'Sweet' might apply to the Black Brigad's former cook, but innocent? Nel wouldn't go that far. Apparently Albel shared the sentiment, for he murmured, "I wouldn't want to leave **us** unchaperoned, either. Make yourself useful and bring some food, Commander. I have a feeling we should **not** drink this stuff on an empty stomach."

Feeling as if she had somehow just played into Albel's hands, Nel gathered up an armful of foodstuffs (half of which she could not identify), and straggled behind the others as Albel led the way to the inn.

* * *

><p>Notes and such: If you put Albel into certain lines with certain people, he really *does* turn his nose up in the air and refuse to work! For instance, he seems to not like working with Maria andor Sophia, at least in two games I played. I thought he just didn't care for working with women until I put him in a line with Nel and, well, that he didn't seem to mind so much. Yep, the nucleus for this story came from that.

Regarding the "not single" remark: in an optional game conversation, Albel tells Fayt that he couldn't protect the woman he loved against Airyglyph's harsh climate, which made me wonder ... just who the heck was he talking about? ^^


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are copyrighted by other people. I am using them without permission but with no intent to harm.

* * *

><p><strong>Truces, Part 6<strong>

Brilliant.

Albel's strategy was bloody brilliant.

Little wonder he commanded the Black Brigade despite lacking a dragon mount himself. Obviously there was no way that Lady Nel, Aquarian military officer and Crimson Blade, could walk into Albel's private rooms at the local inn without a firestorm of gossip erupting. But a somewhat rowdy band of comrade-in-arms that happened to include Lady Nel piling into Albel's private rooms ... well, that would probably still make some tongues wag, Nel thought ruefully. Just not in the same way.

Of course, if the plan was to isolate her for some time alone, there was a bit of a flaw in the execution. No privacy was to be had in Albel's quarters. In fact, the foyer of his suite was borderline crowded. They had come across Mirage on the main road as she exited the store near the inn. She had eyed the cauldron Cliff clutched and, after hearing the soft hissing noises from the depths of the container, announced that she was coming along to protect the unsuspecting universe from whatever horror he planned on unleashing upon it. Nel thought the off-worlder was protecting Cliff rather than the universe for Mirage had, rather pointedly Nel felt, made sure Mayu was wedged between the other two women at the small round table. And, somehow, Damba was now passed out under the table as Nel discovered when her foot made contact with something soft. Afraid she had just kicked a domestic animal, she peeked under the table to discover the inventor snoozing away. Nel wasn't sure how he even got to the inn since she was convinced he'd been thoroughly unconscious in the workshop. She kicked him again, just to make sure that the Howling Fox Cider wasn't inducing illusions, and decided the resulting pained groan probably meant she was still too sober to be seeing things. After glancing around the table at her current companions, she poured herself another drink. She was convinced that sobriety was not a good idea. No doubt she would someday have to explain this evening to someone, to Apris himself eventually if not to the Queen or Claire in the more immediate future, and "I was out-of-my-mind drunk" was the only explanation she thought either deity, royalty or commanding officer would find acceptable.

Nel had never in her life been out on a date, but the current situation she found herself in felt sort of like that. Well, a date that involved several people she didn't know very well, a couple of individuals she was sure that she actively disliked, one middle-aged drunk snoring under the table, and copious amounts of a suspicious liquid concoction she would never touch if she were in her right mind. Apart from that, it felt just like what Nel always imagined a "date" would feel like. Awkward. **Really **awkward.

She wasn't sure if the others felt as disconnected from reality as she did. Although hardly scintillating, the conversation so far lacked any clumsiness. Cliff and Mirage were exchanging technical information on the communication system being built into Crosell's harness, while Mayu was trying to flirt with Albel despite the fact he was as far away from her as he could get and still be at the same table. Damba's snoring did not help Nel as her mind tried to assimilate pieces of two different conversations and synthesize them into some sort of coherent order. She took another gulp from her cup, feeling the sharp tingle as the Howling Fox Cider gently bubbled away several layers of skin from inside her mouth. After swallowing, Nel decided it was time to start a conversation she could actually participate in. Fixing Albel with a stern glare, she demanded, "When did we ever meet before?"

Albel graced her with one of his blandest looks. "You mean, before tonight? How much of that slop have you guzzled?"

"Last night you said you could always recognize me in a fight because of my hair."

"Who wouldn't?" murmured Cliff, but he looked intrigued as well. "When was this?"

"Yes, when?" insisted Nel. "I don't remember ever seeing you before Kirsla."

Albel tilted his head forward as if staring into the cup he held, although Nel was sure he was looking straight at her by using those improbable bangs to shield his eyes. It was a favorite trick of his. "I'm **so** crushed that you don't remember."

"'Last night'?" asked Mayu suddenly.

"Yeah, that's what I was wondering, too. What were you two doing last night?"

For a second Nel thought she felt the stirring of surprised panic thread through her stomach, although it could have been nothing more than gas from ingesting too much cider. Fortunately Albel said scornfully, "She was afraid I was bored enough to pick a fight with her soldiers so she showed me around the palace, fool. How do you think I even knew where that wretched temple was this morning?"

Cliff gave a non-committal shrug, his mouth tilting into a grin. "Just asking. No need to snap my head off."

"You keep not answering the question," Nel accused Albel.

Albel's shoulders moved in a careless shrug. "Someone had to reduce Arias to rubble," said he coolly. "The Black Brigade was part of the original assault. Since I was on the back of a dragon at the time, I suppose you just didn't notice me in particular."

His casual mention of Arias was irritating. Dammit, she had lost good friends in that battle. "You couldn't have been there. You don't have a dragon."

"I don't need 'a' dragon. I can ride any dragon I want."

"That's not what I heard."

The barest twitch flexed across Albel's face. For him, it was probably the equivalent of a physical flinch. He tilted his head forward, hiding his eyes behind his bangs again. "There's always the difficult one that proves the rule," he said in a deadly tone that meant 'drop it.'

Nel felt a smirk as unpleasant as any Albel ever produced forming on her mouth, but the developing tension was puzzling to the off-worlders. "I don't get it," said Cliff as Mirage looked between the two soldiers.

Knowing she was being snide, "It's hardly important enough to get," Nel sniped.

Albel's thin lips tightened. "Watch your mouth, woman."

"Going to shut it for me?"

"Whoa, whoa!" Cliff held his hands up. "Geez, what's the big deal? I don't have a dragon, either, and you don't see me getting all defensive about it!"

"Just shows how little you know, maggot."

The other Airyglyph citizen present felt the need to break in at this point. "Sir Albel's father was killed during his Ascension ceremony. That's where the knights mentally bond with their mounts," said Mayu hurriedly, as if trying to stave off a confrontation.

"In other words," said Nel, "the leader of the Black Brigade failed his bonding ceremony, had to be rescued, and now leads a mounted air division despite having no dragon himself."

Albel gave a slight shrug. "The beast preferred Vox. They were both mean-spirited, so it was just as well. In any case, I have the satisfaction of outliving both."

"But I've seen you ride a dragon," Cliff pointed out.

"Shortly after the ceremony I discovered the mounts of fallen soldiers would let me ride them. Then I realized that I had a unique ability to communicate with any dragon, not just one I happened to be bonded to, and therefore didn't need 'a' mount. Not being tied to a single dragon actually gives me a competitive edge. That's important in a meritocracy," he added scornfully.

The implication that she owed her position to her noble birth rather than her own qualifications stung. As if Albel could be mistaken for anything other than an aristocrat himself! "So your father died for nothing."

Cliff gave a bleary-eyed blink before giving Nel a reproachful stare. "I know you don't like the guy and all, but that's low, Nel."

"All's fair in love and war," murmured Albel in a frigidly emotionless voice. "If I understand the descriptions of the last battle aright, then it appears the entire war was meaningless. Wasn't it the intervention of the ... what were they called again, the Vendeeni? ... the Vendeeni that ended the battle? Your side just had more people left standing when they were done randomly blowing things up."

"Technically speaking," said Mirage evenly, "Fayt drove the Vendeeni off, and since he's with Aquaria, Aquaria wins." Nel blinked at her. The other woman hadn't had enough cider if she could maintain that calm tone. She helpfully pushed the cauldron towards her. Mirage gave a small smile and covered her still-full cup, shaking her head.

Albel snorted. "Whatever." Evidently he was still skeptical about some aspects of the battle as it had been described to him. "In any case, you wanted to know where I'd seen you before, and the answer was 'Arias'. Any other questions?"

"I've got one. Who's the lucky girl?" demanded Cliff. Startled, Mirage gave him a sharp nudge in the ribs. "What? He said he wasn't single. You expect me not to be curious after a comment like that?"

Mayu again looked as if she would like to be somewhere else. Not wanting to hear about Albel's private life, and then annoyed with herself for caring one way or another, Nel grabbed her cup and poured some more cider for herself. Mirage watched her, concern furrowing creases into her brow, and again covered her own cup when Nel tried to top it off for her.

"Why don't we ask the Commander for her opinion?" Albel suggested, his tone sly.

Nel nearly spat out her drink, she was so startled. She covered her surprise by feigning an unconvincing coughing fit. Mirage helpfully reached across Mayu and gave Nel what she probably thought was a light pat on the back. It nearly sent Nel's face crashing into the table. Really, the off-world woman was freakishly stronger than she appeared.

"I understand the Church has rather rigid ideas on what constitutes 'single,'" continued Albel in that too-even tone.

Mayu appeared to be very uncomfortable with this new turn in the conversation. "Sir Albel, you don't have to..."

"Quiet, girl. I would like the Commander's expert opinion on my status. Given that her god married three different women, he might even be sympathetic."

"What are you blathering on about?"

"I'm widowed," said Albel baldly. "My wife Sasha died during childbirth three years ago, along with our baby. From what I understand of Apris' teachings, marriage is forever. So I can't be considered single, can I?"

If Nel thought the air had been sucked out of the room before, it had now achieved total vacuum. Cliff looked completely abashed. "Man, I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"You're so young," said Mirage with compassion.

"We tend to marry young in Airyglyph," responded Albel, still with that disconnected air as if he were discussing something impersonal like the weather. "Life is uncertain there. The climate is difficult, food hard to obtain even in good years. Death during childbirth is fairly common." He gave Nel a cool, disbelieving look. "You didn't know? Some spy you are."

"I didn't cover you. I was assigned to Vox, since his forces tended to be the most aggressive against ours," said Nel slowly. Something was pushing at her mind. "Woltar's daughter... I heard she died in childbirth."

"Yes, that does further complicate the love-hate relationship the old man and I have. It was arranged when we were still children, long before I became Captain of the Black Brigade. So ... what does your precious god have to say about that? Single, or not single?" he clarified when Nel just stared at him blankly.

"Remarriage is allowed under certain circumstances. Death of the previous spouse would count as such a circumstance."

He finally raised his head enough so that she could glimpse his eyes. Was that amusement rather than anger? It was hard to tell with him, sometimes. "How very gratifying to have Apris' permission. I'll keep that in mind."

Not knowing how to respond, Nel took another drink. "Is there any food?" Mirage asked abruptly. "Too much of this stuff and we'll all be under the table."

"How cozy," murmured Albel, but Mayu perked up and begin to expound on some of the new food combinations she had put together in the workshop. The conversation fell into more general lines as the food was served. In spite of its awkward start, a genial atmosphere soon prevailed and the impulsive get-together began to feel more like a party. Even Damba sobered up just enough to pop out and grab some eggrolls. When he tried to dart back to his comfortable spot under the table, however, Cliff grabbed him by the back of the collar and announced it was probably time to go.

Mirage agreed. "We still have a lot of work ahead of us. The wiring for the gunning mechanism is not going very smoothly. It's likely to be another week at least before we're ready to challenge the Vendeeni, and that only if we work full-out. Which means," she added sternly to Cliff, "you can't hide out in the workshop tomorrow. We really need your engineering expertise."

Cliff sighed dramatically. "What can I say? I'm in demand."

Eyeing the still-not-very-sober Damba dangling from one of his hands, Mirage said dryly, "Yes, we can always use you as a bouncer if nothing else." She picked up the cauldron of cider and wrapped her arms around it securely. Amazingly, the contents were still hissing gently.

Opening the door to the suite, Cliff groused, "Yeah, you just love me for my muscles. Sheesh."

Having helped Mayu pack up what little remained of the food, Nel tried to make it through the open door, avoiding eye contact with Albel as she exited. She didn't think she would get very far. She was right.

"A moment, Commander."

Sighing, Nel rubbed her forehead. Cliff lifted his eyebrows, silently asking if they should wait. Nel shook her head. "He and I need to clear the air. Go on without me." Squaring her shoulders, she marched back into the suite and firmly closed the door after herself.

"You sure we should leave the two of them alone?" asked Mirage. "They'll probably kill each other or something."

"Or something," murmured Cliff with a gleam in his eye. He had spent the afternoon at the forge wondering if he should tease the younger man about the very obvious teeth marks in the flesh just under his shoulder. If it had just been the two of them, sure, but it was an indelicate thing to bring up even jokingly with women in the room and, crass as he was, he did have limits. He was beginning to have a pretty good idea of who inflicted the wound. Really, those two weren't nearly as subtle as they thought they were...

"They were pretty sharp to each other earlier," said Mirage doubtfully.

"If you really want to hang around, we could just get a room," drawled Cliff.

Mirage gave him an irritated look. "Excuse me, but what do you suggest I do with these two?"

"Well, the old guy's not my thing, but I could come up with some ideas for you ladies–"

Alarmed, Mayu scooted closer to Mirage. Rolling her eyes, Mirage said mildly, "You're lucky I have my hands full right now."

Cliff shrugged. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

* * *

><p>Being alone with Albel was literally sobering. The buzz Nel had been building so diligently skittered away, leaving her with the promise of a fierce headache in the morning and the reminder that liquid courage was no courage at all. Leaning against the door, Nel tried to decide on a course of action. She could discern no clues from Albel's demeanor. Airygylph's general was sprawled in his chair, long fingers wrapped around his cup, not looking directly at her. "I'm sorry, I was out of line," she finally offered. "I didn't mean to bring up painful memories,"<p>

"Memories are only painful if you carry them around like baggage," replied Albel in a dismissive tone, but he was doing that hiding-his-eyes–behind-his-bangs trick again. Had he always used his hair like a shield? Scowling, Nel leaned across the table and brushed her fingers against his forehead, pushing slightly to bring his head up, then flattening her palm to hold his hair out of the way. Before she could read what was in those bright eyes he caught her wrist. Instead of shoving her hand away he pulled sharply. Forced off-balance, Nel tried to brace herself against the table with her free hand but her fingers slipped on the smooth wood surface. He caught her against his chest. An effective defense; now she was too close to see his eyes. He tucked his face into the curve of her neck, blocking any chance of reading his expression. Cagey bastard.

"I won't abide pity," he warned, his breath warm against her skin.

"Did I offer any? You aren't worth pity."

He actually chuckled, raising goosebumps along her neck where puffs of air caressed it. "As long as we understand each other."

_I don't understand you at all, or myself when I'm around you lately._ Her hands itched to curl into the black cloth covering his chest. She held herself still with difficulty.

"You wore this just to tease me, didn't you?" he demanded as one hand left her back to flit near her collar.

"I wore the same armor I wear all the time just to tease you? Get a grip, Albel."

He raised his head to stare directly into her eyes, so close that their noses touched and his bangs brushed against her face. "_This_," he repeated with emphasis as his fingertips drummed against the insert in her armor that protected her lower throat and upper chest. "You don't put it on unless you're expecting a skirmish. And after I spent most of last night memorizing every curve _here_," and his hand flattened possessively across the leather.

_He means the rune,_ Nel realized. Evidently it really was his favorite one of the lot. "Have you had this rune fetish all your life, or is this a recent obsession?" she demanded, a little irritated.

"Oh, they're ugly things on everyone else." The hand dragged down the center of her body. "Such garish colors you Aquarians favor! Quite disfiguring, really. But **yours **are very;" his fingers pressed briefly against her stomach; "very," before closing over her bare thigh, palm grinding against the rune there; "**enticing**."

His lips began to move along her neck, grazing the high collar of her uniform. One of his arms pressed hard against her back, bracing her against his body. Just behind her there was a crashing sound. Startled, Nel tried to break free but he had anticipated her reaction and restrained her by the simple procedure of mashing her against him. There was a small grunt of exertion, then Nel was lifted bodily onto the table that he had just swept clear. He leaned his weight into her so strongly that she had to lock her arms by her sides or else fall flat on her back. His lips grazed lightly across the line of her jaw and rested against the side of her mouth as his fingers trailed down her sides to grip her hips. Flexing his fingers into the muscles of her buttocks, he pulled his head back and grinned into her eyes. His expression was dangerous. "What are you planning?" Nel demanded suspiciously.

"Funny you should ask." He gave a hard pull forward. Off balance again, Nel staggered to her feet, but before she could gather her wits about herself Albel whirled her about. With a small yip, Nel crashed chest-down onto the table.

"Ow," she complained. She tried to push up with her elbows, but there was pressure between her shoulder-blades, holding her in place. Alarm flared through her for an instant. She gave a hard shrug and tried to move one foot back, meaning to hook Albel's knee and send him down so she could make her escape.

There was a small sound of surprise as he shifted to avoid her, then the pressure on her back eased. His hands came down on either side of hers, fingers holding her wrists without any force as he cradled her, body curved over her, cheek pressed against hers. "Easy," Albel soothed. "I wouldn't hurt you, Nel, don't panic."

Nel huffed in indignation. "I'm not panicking, I'm **reacting**. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I suppose I'm counting on that Aquarian sense of fair play."

Nel tried to turn her head to look at him, but he was too close again and all she could see were strands of his two-toned hair. Damn his eyes. "After the filthy tactics Airyglyph used in the war, you think I have any sense of 'fair play' left where you're concerned?"

"Hmph," he scoffed crossly, sounding more like the Albel she knew. "I let you have control last night. Do you know how hard that was for me? It's your turn."

"WHAT?" she gasped, an octave higher than her usual voice. "You – I – what are you planning?"

"Say 'no' and we can just go do it on the bed," said Albel dryly. Nel snorted and he quickly added, "If you want to, of course. However, I only survived this exceptionally dull evening by imaging several very interesting scenarios involving you and this table." His fingers moved across her wrists, caressing, and his mouth pressed against her temple. "Indulge me a little," he whispered against her skin. "We could die any second if the Vendeeni get bored waiting for us, remember? I promise not to hurt you."

She rapped her fingertips against the hard wood, testing it. At least the surface was polished enough so that splinters weren't very likely. Still... "If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, there's no way this is going to be comfortable."

"Hmmm. All right, I promise to make you forget how uncomfortable it is."

After considering for a minute, "Get off me," Nel demanded. He released her wrists slowly, placing his hands palms-down next to her arms to lever himself up. She stood up, but he wouldn't back away. She felt the heat and pressure of him behind her. Raising her hands to her collar, she unfastened it, then crossed her arms across her chest to pull off the tunic covering her armor. Folding it neatly, she placed it on the table, hoping it would provide some padding. She ignored the amused snort from behind her, instead unfastening her bracers and wiggling off the armor. Albel wasn't giving her a lot of room to work in; Nel couldn't help but brush against him. When she heard his breath begin to slow and deepen, she smirked and moved around a little more than was strictly necessary, rubbing up against him even more.

"Tease," he hissed.

"You say that a lot."

"You breathe, and I'm so hard I can't walk straight."

"That must have made riding a dragon in Arias very difficult."

He made that odd sound that was between a huff and a chuckle. "You have no idea." His hands were fisted against the wood of the table top with the effort it took not to touch her.

She couldn't figure out how to gracefully remove her boots, and decided to leave them on. Placing her hands on the cloth in front of her, she asked, "What do you want me to do?"

One hand moved from the table to her bare stomach, moving in small circles. "To begin with, **relax**." He dipped his head to press small kisses under her ear as the path on her stomach widened, his knuckles brushing underneath her breasts.

Startled, Nel took in a sharp breath. Suddenly the mechanics of having sex while bent over a table bothered her quite a bit less. _This man fogs up my brain,_ she thought hazily, pressing back against him. He murmured in approval, dropping his mouth to trace soft, moist lines across the top of her shoulder. Something brushed against her arm. It was too much effort to turn her head, so she just cast her gaze slightly sideways. Her eyes widened. "Albel, I have a condition," she said abruptly.

He raised his head, going from languid to alert. "What?" he asked suspiciously.

Nel caught the braid that had fallen over her shoulder and tugged on it. "Take your hair down."

She heard the long, slow inhale next to her ear. "Only if you stay to help tie it back up in the morning," he finally said in a gravely voice that made Nel press and rub her thighs together. Unable to trust her own voice, she merely nodded her agreement. The table was looking more accommodating by the second...

It took longer than she would have liked because he wouldn't help her unwind the bindings and her fingers were oddly clumsy as they plucked at the wrapping. Finally discovering where the end of the long ribbon-like cloth was tucked, Nel had to half-turn in his arms to complete the task. She took the opportunity to look into his face. His expression was intent, the same focused look he had in combat then, when he realized she was staring up at him, the same small smirk across his lips as well. Folding his long fingers around her neck, he pulled her on tip-toe for a long kiss, mouth moving languidly across her own. He really did kiss as if nothing else mattered, except the slow burn was beginning to drive her crazy and she nearly clawed off the rest of the bindings in her impatience to get on with it. She discovered that his hair wasn't actually plaited, it was just divided into two long ropes at the base of his neck and compressed by the entwining cloth. He shook his head a bit when Nel finally drew the last of the wrapping away. His hair was dark, mostly, nearly blond at the very ends, and fell in slight waves past his waist, doing nothing to soften the angles of his face. She had seen him naked, but somehow this felt more intimate. Her breath coming more rapidly, she pushed her hip against his still-clothed thigh.

Albel's hand closed over her other hip, pulling her against him. "Who's in a hurry now?" He held her there for a moment as fingers trailed up and down her spine, teasing nerve endings she didn't know she had. Turning her away from him towards the table, he lifted her a bit by her thighs. Surprised, Nel scrabbled for a handhold but felt her hands slipping on the tunic she had put down earlier and crashed down on her elbows again. He was determined to keep her off-balance tonight, both literally and figuratively. Her feet were off the ground; she couldn't get traction anywhere. His fingers closed over her wrists, arms lying alongside hers, caging her between him and the table. There was the sharp nip of teeth against the back of her shoulder before he pressed against her, chest to her back, lean thighs between hers. As near as she could tell, he still had most of his clothes on. Prickles of sweat broke out everywhere on her body. She hoped he knew what he was doing, because if she so much as twitched she was going to either slide right off the table or shatter into a million pieces.

She did the latter as soon as he entered her, throwing her head back with a strangled gasp. There was a surprised grunt as she connected with something solid, but she was too far gone to notice. Teeth closed on the junction between her neck and shoulder, and she nearly screamed. Unable to do anything for her own pleasure, she writhed helplessly under him, gasping as small jolts continued to shake her.

When it was done she stared down at her hands, twined tightly with his. He was nibbling small kisses against the top of her shoulder and muttering. "Ow. Ow. Ow."

The unyielding tabletop under her stomach and breasts was suddenly acutely uncomfortable. Nel shifted a bit, meaning to slide back enough to put her feet on the floor, but Albel bit her again, harder this time. "Ow!" she echoed him. "What was that for?"

"You nearly broke my nose, woman."

"Your fault for thinking you could ever make me helpless." In spite of the tunic, the hard wood under her was really becoming unpleasant, especially against her over-sensitized nipples. She squirmed again, trying to find traction, then stilled when he deliberately rolled his hips into her. Gods, he was still hard after that.

"Not done with you yet," he hissed into her ear, then nipped it for good measure. "Not by a long shot–"

"Bed?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound too much like she was pleading. "This **hurts**, Albel."

After a moment his fingers unwound from her wrists and the weight pressing her into the table was removed from her back. Relieved, Nel again tried to shift back. That just made Albel moan. He crossed his hands over her chest, cupping her breasts, and pressed his face against her neck as he arched her up until she was precariously balanced on her palms and hips. He slowly rolled into her again. "Can you stand it for ten minutes?" he asked huskily.

Most of her weight was on her hipbones. It **did **hurt. "Five."

"Seven."

Nel rolled her eyes. "Just get on with it."

He moved with agonizing control, kneading and gripping her breasts, continuously mouthing her neck and shoulder. He was trying to minimize any discomfort to her with his careful movements, Nel realized. Although each press of his hips drove her against the table, his fingers and lips distracted her enough that she could feel the tension coiling in her lower abdomen again. Lifting one of her bracing hands, she curled it into the hair flowing over her shoulder, following the strands until she clenched her fingers against his head. Albel hummed against her skin and turned his face so that his mouth pressed against her temple, body shuddering. "Nothing like it," he moaned, and kept moaning. He was much quieter in climax than the night before, although he still needed to babble a bit. Nel closed her eyes, letting the words wash over her but not taking them to heart. If she learned anything during her tenure as a spy, it was to not listen to what a man said during passion. Information gathered under such circumstances was notoriously unreliable.

He leaned heavily against her as he breathed deeply, but when she shrugged her shoulders to dislodge him this time he let her, dropping his hands to her hips and pulling her backwards until she could finally reach the floor. Eyeing her scrunched-up tunic, Nel decided she did not want to put that on again and reached for her discarded arm bracers instead. Albel's fingers looped loosely around her wrist, stopping her. "What are you doing?"

"Getting dressed."

Albel tugged on her hand until she turned to face him. Tilting her head back, Nel had another one of those disconnected moments where she realized she had just had sex with someone and not once looked at their face during the act. The pleasure-flush still ran along his cheekbones, and she saw he really hadn't removed anything other than the armor on his arms. "You can't leave," he told her. "You promised to help with my hair in the morning, remember?"

So she had. "I'll come back then."

Shaking his head, "Unacceptable," Albel said. "That wasn't part of the agreement. You said you would stay. I suppose expecting an Aquarian to keep her word is naive of me, though. Bodes ill for the peace treaty."

"If anyone breaks the treaty, it won't be us," snapped Nel. "I can't be seen leaving your rooms in the morning, Albel."

"It's better to sneak out in the wee hours?"

"I won't be 'sneaking'. The others left not that long ago. No one will notice if I leave now."

Curving his fingers into her shoulders, he dropped his head until his mouth was against her ear and whispered, "The others didn't smell like **me**."

Her treacherous skin prickled again with heat at the low tone of his voice. How could he do that to her so quickly? She shoved him. He stepped back with his hands held in the air, that small, uneven smirk across his mouth. "What do you suggest I do, go out the window?" Nel demanded crossly.

"Well, the window in my bedroom **does** open up over the roof of the shop." Nel gave him a disbelieving look. Albel shrugged. "I'm on enemy territory. Of course I checked out all possible escape routes. I'm sure during your spying days you had to scrabble over rooftops more than once. You'll have a much easier time of it if you wait until daybreak, though."

All she really had to do was grab her armor, put it on, and walk out the door. Nel knew he wouldn't stop her. She also knew she would have to put up with gibes about breaking her word for days. If he teased her about it around the others, that could led to some uncomfortable questions. Both Cliff and Mayu had startled her this evening with fairly innocent comments; if Albel wanted to, he could make things very awkward for her with the other members of their group. _I don't have to put up with him for long, _Nel thought. _Just until the weapon is finished, or until the Vendeeni blow us up. Whichever comes first._

So she shrugged and gave in, and tried not to be annoyed when he tilted his head down to hide his eyes behind his hair again.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are copyrighted by other people. I am using them without permission but with no intent to harm.

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><p>It took more than the day that Cliff predicted, but less than the week that Mirage anticipated. The runologists and the off-worlders worked around the clock to complete the dragon's harness and to jury-rig the runological controls to the alien technology. In the end, though, the weapon could not be fired by any of the off-worlders despite the similarity their symbology had to runology. Nel was forced into a crash course involving communication technology and what button to push in case of an emergency evacuation. She didn't think there would be anything to evacuate to if their efforts failed, but she didn't bother saying that out loud. It was something they all knew.<p>

At least she had been given a role to play, and a crucial one at that. When Albel realized that he would just be along for the ride, he was not happy. Fayt's attempt to placate him by saying he was the only one who knew anything about dragons backfired miserably. Anything other than direct threat Albel was inclined to consider patronizing, and in this case, Nel thought dryly, he would be right. Young Fayt was surprisingly capable for his age, but sometimes he stumbled badly when he tried to be either diplomatic or conciliatory. The faint bonds of camaraderie that had twined around the group during their weeks negotiating the Barr Mountains snapped. Albel reverted to the harsh and suspicious outsider he had been during their first few days together, and accepted neither apologies by Fayt nor negotiations attempts by Mirage.

Not that it kept him from her bed. Of course, whatever odd sentiment drew him there in the first place had more to do with propinquity and the cold realization that death was the most likely outcome of their daring plan than any feelings he had for her personally. Although, in truth, he did not treat **her** any differently than before his quarrel with Fayt and the other off-worlders.

Since her own estimation of their likelihood of survival matched that of Albel's, Nel didn't feel that she should waste any of what little time she had left pondering his motivations. So she didn't. She simply accepted his presence when he was there and concentrated on more important things when he was not.

The arrival of several of Airyglyph XIII's minions that included Woltar was, fortunately, a minor distraction, coming as it did so close to the final testing of the apparatus harnessed to Crosell. Albel's King had been in residence since their return from subduing Crosell, but had stayed away after coming out on the losing end of a barbed conversation with the ancient dragon. Nel was aware of their presence nearby and could even catch hints of Albel's cadence as he spoke to his visiting leader and his former father-in-law about their plans, but she was isolated deep within the contraption without so much as a peephole and thus wasn't able to view his interaction with the one person he considered somewhat on his own level. Under other circumstances she might have been interested in meeting with the man that had done so much to rework Airyglyph society, but with so little time left her duty called her attention elsewhere.

Another encounter with Woltar did not interest her. Although he never completely admitted it, Woltar was most likely the person who killed her father. With the reality of her own demise so close, Nel did not trust herself around him. It would be too easy to give in to personal anger when there were no consequences to consider. So she ran the tests shouted to her from topside by Cliff and Fayt, and ignored what was happening just outside her cubicle.

Around midnight Fayt pronounced himself satisfied, and even the more perfectionist Maria agreed that there was nothing more that could be done given the time constraints. Nel unstrapped herself from the various gizmos that she didn't pretend to understand and pulled herself out of what the off-worlders called "the cockpit". The others were gathered on the wooden deck. The faint lights cast their figures into deep shadow only touched here and there by a slight easing of the darkness. "So," said Cliff, his tone unusually somber. "Tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow," agreed Fayt grimly. He gazed upward, his face set in hard lines of defiance. "We face the Vendeeni tomorrow."

_We die tomorrow,_ thought Nel, _unless you have another of your odd tricks handy. _Unfortunately Fayt did not know how to access his power, let alone control it. Death was the more probable outcome. She glanced around, belatedly realizing that one of their number was missing. "Where's Albel?"

"He took off hours ago," Cliff told her. There was a peculiar shading to his voice that Nel thought might be sympathy, although why Cliff would be feeling sympathetic towards her was a mystery. "I'm sure the King needed him for something, Nel."

Nel shrugged. It had been a casual query, nothing more. It was not as if she cared where any of the various Airyglyph military leaders were, although having so many of them near her Queen made her nervous. "It's not as if he's needed here," she noted dispassionately.

There was a brief silence after that, for although it was a harsh observation, it was also a true one. Lacking any of the technical or runological skills of the others, and with Crosell cooperating (however reluctantly), Albel was not needed for the final stage of the operation. His inclusion was a matter of courtesy to Airyglyph. "Anyways," said Cliff after an uncomfortable pause, "it's a busy day tomorrow. We should turn in."

_And what do you do the night before the end of the world? _wondered Nel as she said her goodbyes to her comrades. She was tired; she needed sleep. Yet with so few hours left to her, spending any of them in sleep seemed a waste.

It appeared, however, that not everyone agreed with her, as Nel discovered when she walked into her room. Albel was sprawled across her narrow bed, quite sound asleep from what she could tell. Nel put a hand to her temple and shook her head. Really, she didn't know what he thought he was doing here, but she wasn't going to wake him up to find out. Crossly she set about removing her own clothes, disgruntled when she found her favorite chair had his armor neatly arranged in it. There was another problem; the narrow bed was only meant for one, and Albel was in the middle of it. Gritting her teeth, Nel leaned over and slapped him on the nearest bare shoulder. "Albel."

"Hmph?" One eye slit open. He regarded her groggily.

"Move. The hell. Over."

"Hmph." He rolled to his side, presenting her with a shadowed glimpse of his long, narrow back.

_Being married must be like this,_thought Nel as she wedged herself into the bed next to him. After thinking about it a moment, she reluctantly pulled the sheets up to make sure his shoulders were covered. With all the tossing and turning he habitually did in the night, sleeping in the same bed was him was hard enough without him shivering with cold during those rare times when he was still. She turned on her own side, facing the door and feeling the body heat from his flesh so close to hers. It was peculiar that someone so consumed with his own strength as Albel would allow anyone near him while he was asleep. It was an inherently vulnerable condition. Yet he not only went to great lengths to stay after sex, he apparently didn't even require it to want to be in the same bed with another person. Unraveling the man's complexities, decided Nel, would take a lifetime, unless that lifetime could be measured in hours. As it stood, she didn't have the time to waste on him now. She closed her eyes, doing her best to remain still and ignore the bed's other occupant.

* * *

><p>Her sleep was surprisingly deep, but not untroubled. She was vaguely aware, for example, when Abel rolled against her back and threw a heavy leg over hers. She shoved at his knee and snarled at him to go back to his side of the bed. "This <strong>is<strong> my side of the bed," he mumbled into her ear. Nel found that hard to argue with, so she just grunted and slid back into sleep.

She was fairly sure they had sex at one point, but she was very sleepy and hardly involved if they did, so perhaps it had been just a dream. _Sex so casual neither of us have to be awake for it; definitely like marriage,_ she thought to herself without much interest before drifting off again.

When she next opened her eyes, it was to the dim light of dawn, which since it was usually dark when she woke in the morning meant she had overslept. Surprised, Nel lifted her head and immediately grimaced, pressing her thighs together. Either they really **did** have sex or her period had started, and since soldiers took herbs to repress their monthly bleeding, she knew which one **she** thought it was. Sighing, she dropped her head back on the pillow and tried to remember more precisely.

"You have time yet," said a cool voice near the bed. Nel slapped one hand over her face, willing the voice to not be attached to a body, especially not the body of a particular Airyglyph military leader. She peeked through her fingers. Nope, no such luck. It was Albel, fully dressed and slumped sideways in a chair he had pulled next to the bed, one foot dangling casually over the armrest. He appeared very at home, curse him.

Dropping her hand, she said wearily, "Why are you still here?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. It seemed pointless to be any place else."

_Pointless; yes. Does it matter if anyone sees him today? Today, on this last day– _ Nel sat up, paying no attention to her state of undress. "I have to bathe," she said flatly, ignoring the sidelong, interested glance he gave her shoulders or, more specifically, her collarbone. She didn't really have time to indulge his rune fetish this morning.

"I ran a bath for you," was his unexpected response. "It might still be tepid. Then again, it might be completely freezing by now."

Nel stared at him, surprised once more. "Why did you do that?"

Another shrug. "Don't know," he said again, sounding irritated this time. He slid his leg off the armrest and stood up. "I'll meet you at Crosell's."

He made it sound like they were having breakfast at a restaurant. "I'll be there shortly," said Nel, eyeing him warily.

Smirking sllghtly, Albel bent and pressed his mouth against her forehead, then flicked the tip of her nose. "Don't keep us waiting while you primp, woman. A lot is riding on you today."

_And you are only along for the ride,_she thought, but she refrained from saying it out loud. She knew that his lack of an active role rankled, and rubbing it in at this point would just be petty. So Nel settled for nodding, hoping that was enough of a response to get him out of her room, and apparently it was. He smiled at her once, a genuine smile rather than his normal smirk, and touched her cheek lightly with his fingers before grabbing his katana and leaving without a backwards look.

When she tested the water in the tub, it was freezing. Grumbling, she drained it and settled for her usual quick shower.

It was while she had her head tilted back, running a hand through the wet strands, that she had a flash of memory; his mouth pressed tightly against her temple, lips moving against her skin, babbling the way he did during climax. Right, then, she thought, they did have sex. She'd never dream such sentimental nonsense. Once more she blocked what he said from her mind, because it had no meaning when spoken at such a moment. Besides, it had no importance. Their chances of surviving this confrontation with the Vendeeni were nil.

* * *

><p>Nel's worthy self-sacrifice for god and county ran into a bit of an unexpected snag.<p>

Not that they defeated the Vendeeni with the ThunderArrow, strapped so precariously onto Crosell's mighty back. In fact, everything went wrong early. The enemy ignored them and went after the off-worlders craft, nearly bringing it down. But then something happened that Nel was, at first, willing to credit divine intervention. Trapped as she was in the innards of the contraption with nothing more than the narrow field of view afforded to her by the weapon's sighting scope, she could only deduce what was going on by the cries of her teammates and the disembodied babbling voice that apparently somehow came from the off-world vessel Diplo, even though it sounded like the speaker was standing on the deck with the others: "I don't believe it! The computer says that narrow beam of light was packing an energy magnitude of three-point-two!"

Cliff barked in angry disbelief, "Did she say magnitude three-point-two?"

"That can't be!" Fayt insisted. "Even the creation cannons on the latest Federation battleships can only emit an energy magnitude of two, tops!"

"So what the hell was it?" demanded Cliff.

There appeared to be no easy answer to that, even with the near-mystical technology the off-worlders possessed. Her brow furrowing as she listened to increasingly difficult-to-understand jargon, Nel shook her head. This was beyond her. Intervention by a god she could accept, but the conversation from topside indicated an unknown enemy capable of destroying entire worlds with its weapons. That was simply more than Nel could grasp right away. Sure, as a military woman she would sometimes speak of the desire to utterly crush Airyglyph, especially after the atrocities at Arias. Even had they completely demolished that nation's infrastructure, however, the land and a fair amount of the people would have remained. Blowing an entire planet into debris made no sense from a military standpoint. The off-worlders, she thought, had very wasteful wars.

She also noted that Albel was completely silent. In fact, he had said nothing from the sighting of the first Vendeeni ship. Unlike her, he hadn't been at the battlefield and so missed it when Vox and much of the Airyglyph military were atomized by a similar craft. The confirmation of their account of the alien war vessel, which he had steadfastly continued to mock, must have been a great shock to shut him up so completely.

Hovering in mid-air with no enemy to fight was pointless. Fayt made the decision to return to Castle Aquaria.

When she pulled herself from the "cockpit" (with a great deal of help from Cliff; the contraption really hadn't been made for either comfort nor ease of access), Nel discovered Albel leaning against the railing of the deck, oblivious to his comrades. Not sure what she could do to snap him out of it, Nel stepped towards him, sharp words on her lips meant to bring him back to his usual cutting self. She didn't get the chance. Without ever appearing to note her presence, Albel braced one hand against the wood and lightly vaulted over it, disappearing from view. Nel stood astonished for a moment. It wasn't a drop to be taken lightly. Rushing to where he had been standing, she leaned over to catch a glimpse of him striding deeper into the gardens. "Where is he–?" she started to ask herself, then stiffened when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Shrugging it off, she turned to face Cliff. "**What**?" she snapped.

Cliff held up one hand. "Whoa, easy! Just checking if you're okay, that's all."

"Oh, I'm wonderful. Something that can blow up the world just made its presence known. I've never been better," said Nel through her teeth.

"Ah, don't worry. I'm sure Apris will kiss it and make it all go away."

The knife was out before she knew what she was doing, although she didn't follow through with her half-formed intent to put it to his throat. "I warned you before," she said coldly, "about mocking my religion."

Cliff rubbed the back of his head, his expression weary rather than apologetic or wary. "Nel, there are tens of thousands of religions throughout the galaxy," he said bluntly. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out they can't all be real."

"That," she retorted, "is where faith comes in."

"Riiiiight," he drawled. "Anyways... You going after him, or you just going to let him sulk?"

She had planned on following, although upon brief reflection Nel had no idea why. "That's not your concern," she said. Turning back to the railing, she studied the distance to the ground. Maybe years of hopping on and off dragons had given Albel some special trick that kept him from breaking an ankle, but she wasn't going to chance it. Scowling, she headed for the other side of the deck and the rickety walkway the runologists were just now wheeling up to Crosell's other side. "I have to report to the Queen."

Cliff leaned against the railing gazing towards Albel's last known location, and was not surprised to see Nel heading deeper into the gardens instead of the palace's balcony, where the Queen of Aquaria and her counterpart Airyglyph ruler were both standing in plain view of anyone who cared to look up.

Although the gardens were maze-like, Nel didn't need to employ any of her spying techniques to track the Airyglyph general. All she had to do was follow the sound of raised voices. Albel was snapping at someone, which was not so unusual in and of itself, but whoever he was speaking to was responding in a measured, even amused manner, which no doubt was only making Albel even more angry. Nel rounded a hedge and stopped.

Woltar. Of course. She should have recognized his voice.

"I don't mean to intrude," Nel said after a pause.

"You aren't intruding, Lady Nel," said Woltar politely enough, although the cold, shrewd eyes questioned the purpose for her presence. "The boy here was just leaving. Weren't you, boy?"

"Leaving?" queried Nel, her head going to one side.

"The danger's past," said Albel. "There's no need for me to stay here any more." She was aware of his eyes on her, although as usual she couldn't see more than a hint of them behind the bangs. "Is there?"

"Where are you going?" persisted Nel.

"I need to train," he finally responded.

"I don't know what the Vendeeni are, or what it was that destroyed them, but I don't think there is any amount of 'training' that would allow either of us to take them on," Nel said frankly.

Woltar smiled genially, which was one of the most unpleasant things Nel had ever seen. It made the hair on the nape of her neck stand up. "I was just telling the boy that," he said.

"Hmph," was all Albel had to say in response.

Woltar shrugged. "Work yourself to exhaustion if it will make you feel useful. There are more practical things you could be doing, however. The King has been tolerant of you so far—"

"Oh, I hardly call clapping me in irons 'tolerant'."

"He'll do it again, Albel, if you ignore your duties too long. With Vox dead and the various dragon brigades decimated, he needs you as part of the restructuring team."

"Bah. I don't have time for busy work, old man. I'll take over when everything is settled."

"You have extraordinary talent, boy, which is why both the King and I put up with your habitual insubordination. However, there was a reason that most of your men preferred Sir Shelby. It wasn't because he was an affable person, because he wasn't. Nor was it because he was more capable than you, because he certainly wasn't that, either. When you put your mind to it, you're a very efficient leader. It was because he was **there**, Albel."

"Not," remarked Albel snidely, "any longer."

"No one is there any longer," agreed Woltar. "Your oh-so-effective leadership has left the Kirsla facility empty. I suppose that might make it a good place for you to train for a while, if solitude is what you require." Albel scowled, rapping his fingertips against the katana's scabbard. "Or not," the old man concluded in amusement. "If you're angry enough to destroy anything that gets in your way, though, Kirsla would be a good choice. Thanks to the death toll of the last few months, it will be years before we can man such a distant outpost again. Might as well make use of it in the meantime."

"I go my own way, old man."

"As always," said Woltar, sounding amused rather than put out or insulted. "Was there something you required of us, Lady Nel?"

There was nothing she cared to say to Albel with an audience present. Come to think of it, there was nothing she cared to say to Albel, period. "My Queen and your King await," said Nel, carefully keeping voice and expression neutral.

"Ah." Woltar bent a steady stare on Albel, but the younger man just turned his head and pretended not to notice. "Well.** I** will not keep my monarch waiting. I trust you can lead me out of this maze, Lady Nel."

Nel regarded the man she was very sure killed her father, and wished there wasn't a witness present. "Of course," she answered.

Albel snagged her wrist when she turned away. She looked at him in astonishment. Leaning forward, he whispered in a tone meant only for her to hear, "We'll talk when I get back."

"About what?" she asked, making no attempt to lower her voice. Woltar was close enough to hear anything no matter the precautions, and she didn't want him making any assumptions about the relationship between her and Albel. Not that there **were** any assumptions to make...

"Oh, the advantages of Airyglyph rooftops over those of Aquaria, perhaps," replied Albel with his customary smirk. He ran his thumb over her wristguard as if caressing the rune hidden under it before turning his back.

Nel gazed at him blankly. "You aren't coming?"

There was no answer, unless Albel's snort counted as such. He walked away without a backwards glance, turning a corner in the well-trimmed maze and effectively vanishing from her sight. When she continued to stare after him, Woltar cleared his throat. Nel spun around and regarded him with narrowed eyes.

"Albel will do as he pleases, but **I **can't ignore a summons from my king," he said, pleasantly enough. Nel wished she understood what it was about the old man that creeped her out so much. Perhaps just knowing that his face was the last thing her father ever saw was enough. "Are you coming with me, or are you chasing after the young fool?"

"Why would I care where Albel goes?" Nel snapped.

"Why, indeed," murmured Woltar, more statement than question.

Gritting her teeth, Nel strode past him, not caring if he followed her through the leafy maze or not.

* * *

><p>After the barbed confrontation with Albel (if confrontation it was; Nel really wasn't sure how to categorize it), the meeting with the leaders of Aquaria and Airyglyph was decidedly anti-climatic. The rulers were frigidly polite to each other, and barely showed any more discernable warmth towards Fayt's allies. The meeting was distinguished by platitudes and patently-false expressions of concern until the moment Fayt stirred and wondered out loud where Albel had gotten to. Woltar replied, his amusement palpable, "He went back home. Said something like, 'The danger's past, so there's no need for me to stay here."<p>

Maria didn't seem that surprised. "He didn't even say good-bye. He'll never change."

Looking at Nel, Woltar grinned. "Ah, don't say that."

Nel let one hand drop to the hilt of her father's dagger and Woltar's grin widened, even as Fayt complained that he wanted to say goodbye to all of his comrades and the King promised to convey the message. Nel had nothing to add, folding her arms and watching stoically as Fayt and the other off-worlders took up positions before blurring into nothingness, presumably somehow showing up on their space-faring vessel. She studiously ignored Woltar when he stepped next to her.

"You know," the old man said casually, so casually that Nel did not, at first, fully take in what he was saying, "I dearly loved my daughter. So dearly that, if slaughtering half of every living thing on this planet would bring her back, I would do so without hesitation. But she was never quite a match for Albel. Not," he added, "that anyone from this country could be a match for him, either."

Annoyed more than surprised at his words, Nel turned her head to glare at him, but all she saw was his back as he walked into the palace, following closely on the footsteps of his king.

She was a little tired of staring at the backs of men as they walked away from her. Really, it would do the arrogant Airyglyph bastards good to live in Aquaria for a while to discover how men **should** behave.

If the days following Albel's departure found her restless, it was just the deflation of peaceful living. After years fighting Airyglyph and months living continually on the edge as she traveled with Fayt, it was little surprise if the lack of tension in her daily life made her feel something was missing.

And it was a total coincidence that her meanderings from the palace as she occupied herself controlling the local monster population found her standing on the ramparts of Kirsla, a facility days distant from the capital of Aquaria. She wasn't looking for anything in particular. Not really.

But it proved to be a fateful choice, one that led her to places she never, ever imagined in either her wildest dreams or her darkest nightmares. Nor, given the overwhelming circumstances she found herself in, was there any room in her mind for anything other than the present. Both the past and the future were abolished so that she could deal with a stark reality that was, at times, beyond her ken.

Or at least that's the way it was, until Fayt's journey returned him to Airyglyph and he announced that he needed the strongest of the strong in order to combat the Creator.

All of which brought Nel back to the beginning of her little bout of nostalgia, and begged the question: what was she to do about Albel?


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Don't own, not mine.

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><p><strong>Truces<strong>

Prowling the confines of the palace brought no clarity to Nel's conflicted mind. Her homeland had already seemed bizarrely unsubstantial following her off-world travels. Albel's visit switched that incongruity sideways. Instead of being strange because of her most recent experiences, it was strange because **he** was nowhere to be found. He was not in the temple making acerbic comments about the theocracy that ruled Aquaria; he was not pacing the corridors glaring at her subordinates in a threatening fashion. Odd that she had spent almost all of her twenty-four years within the palace walls, and the lack she felt most strongly came from the few days **he** had shared them. Scowling as fiercely as ever Albel had, Nel sought refuge on the balcony outside the throne room, sure that the fresh air of the gardens would restore her undisciplined mind to its usual regime of military correctness. No such luck; instead she recalled the sharp conversation she held with Woltar in this very spot over Albel's relationship with Woltar's late daughter. Personally, Nel thought the unfortunate young woman chose death in childbirth as the preferable fate to being locked to Nox for any length of time. Grimacing in irritation – she hadn't thought of him even once in weeks, and suddenly she couldn't escape the man now? – Nel folded her hands across the stone balustrade and leaned her weight heavily on her forearms, looking over the gardens without really seeing them.

"Quite the mess, huh?"

Although considerably startled when someone spoke from just behind her, Nel didn't indicate her surprise. Surprise was the sort of thing that could get you killed in battle. Instead, "'Mess'?" she enquired without much interest.

She heard a heavy footfall before Cliff edged into her field of vision. He leaned a hip against the smooth stone edge as he crossed his arms over his chest, body turned towards her rather than the garden. "Crosell was careless landing and knocked a few things over. You didn't notice?"

Nel narrowed her eyes, focusing on the scene in front of her instead of the mental pictures that had plagued her since Albel's visit, and drew in her breath sharply. Several statues were shattered. Distinct claw marks marred the perfection of the hedges. Her hands clenched around the balcony's railing, wishing they encircled Albel's scrawny neck instead. "That inconsiderate **idiot**," she fumed.

"Dragons are like that."

"So are Dragon **Knights**."

Cliff's brows when up. "It would be big news if Crosell let Nox ride him. Crosell doesn't let just anyone on his back. You think they've done that bonding thing that knights and dragons do?"

"I'm sure Crosell gave in just to shut him up," retorted Nel, then wondered at the slow smirk that crossed Cliff's face.

Cocking his head to the side, "So Albel **was** here?" Cliff enquired blandly. "Funny. None of **us** saw him."

Too late Nel saw the neat trap he laid for her. There was no way she could pretend ignorance. She settled for lifting a shoulder with feigned indifference. "What of it? Going to crow about your good fortune in not having to endure him for five minutes?"

"Heh. Five minutes?" The smirk widened. "No wonder you're so cranky. I'll have to have a talk with that boy." Nel flexed one fist and set it against her hip, glaring at him. Cliff shrugged and dropped the subject, but the smirk remained. "Fayt's ready to head back again, he says. Maria talked him into waiting for a bit, but any time this week will still be too soon. Albel beat on him pretty badly. He isn't going to be healed enough, and it's a hard journey on top of it. Not all of us have dragons to ride."

Nel thought about mentioning the off-world teleportation devices that somehow took people apart and put them back together again in far distant places, but refrained. It was a frightening thing if thought about too much, and she worked hard not to over-analyze the bizarre technology she had been exposed to the last few months. To her, the supernatural that Cliff so scorned was more tangible and less frightening than the labor saving devices he took for granted.

"Too bad we didn't know Albel was here." That was definitely a drawl embedded in Cliff's deep voice, one that well matched the smirk. "Could've saved us the trip."

"With the shape Fayt's in, another fight with Albel right now will kill him."

Cliff's mysterious amusement faded. "True," he said, his tone sobering. "We've all gotten stronger, but none of us are in Albel's class. Even another sword master like Fayt can't touch him yet."

Nel knew that Fayt was sure that he wouldn't be ready to face the Creator until he was powerful enough to defeat Albel. It would be an admirable goal, thought Nel, if they only had **time**. Nel understood that the young man needed the confidence boost defeating the most skillful swordsman known would give him; at the same time, they had been able to destroy the minions of the Creator. She was not as convinced, at least not yet, that the Creator was so much more powerful than his own creations. What she **did** know was that time was too short. The Creator's capabilities in a one-on-one battle were a mystery, but he had demonstrated his ability to destroy from a distance. Albel needed to be either recruited or defeated in short order, or many more lives could be lost.

If Fayt and his mysterious powers were eradicated, the toll would be even greater. Nel had only recently been introduced to the mind-boggling reality of "galaxies" and the immense number of lives supported within one. The Creator threatened not just Elicoor itself but the entire "galaxy" with extermination. With so much at risk, Fayt's original fight with Albel had taken place over the objections of most of the party. Only Cliff supported the younger man's suicidal determination. For whatever reason, Albel had stopped just short of killing Fayt, sending him away with a scornful admonition to return only when he was capable of putting up a **real** fight. While one week or ten wouldn't be enough time for Fayt to train to Albel's level, it might be enough time for the Creator to destroy everything in the "galaxy".

_So,_ Nel thought as she glared at the dragon-sized indentations in the Holy Mother's garden, _not only do I have to do something about Albel, I have to do it fast enough to keep Fayt alive._

* * *

><p>Really, though, Nel asked herself crossly several days later, why did <strong>she<strong> need to anything about Albel?

For all that he had occupied no part of her thinking mind during her journey off-planet, with her return and the strong reminder of his existence, he was suddenly quite hard to ignore. This was especially contradictory since, in spite of his unexpected appearance in her room and his acerbic comments to her there, he had apparently put** her **completely out of** his** mind. There had been no contact from him. None whatsoever.

Not that she cared. For one thing, there was little need to worry about Albel killing Fayt. Adray's training was going to do it first. Hearing another yelp from the gardens below the balcony, followed by the distinctive sound of a body solidly plowing a trough in the ground, Nel scrubbed her hand across her face. Adray had taken the dragon's misuse of the garden as a divine signal, one that meant it was **the** appropriate place to further Fayt's grappling skills. The damage a careless dragon could do with a sloppy landing was nothing compared to a fanatical martial artist determined to toughen up someone. Nel tried not to flinch at the echoing sound of more fleshy blows. Fayt's injured ribs meant he couldn't swing a sword freely, so he had eagerly acquiesced when Adray suggested hand-to-hand combat as a good training substitute. That had been two days ago. Fayt must be a great deal tougher than he appeared, decided Nel, because she was convinced that most healthy individuals would have collapsed after just a few rounds of Adray's enthusiastic "conditioning."

Next to her, "You know he's setting out tomorrow," Cliff said, his voice expressionless. "He says he can't wait any longer."

"He'll be killed."

"Yes," agreed Cliff baldly. Nel slid a sideways glance up at him. Something in his face seemed to ask, _What are you going to do?_ Probably it was her own paranoia speaking. Paranoia was an occupational hazard in her line of work. There was no way Cliff could know what she planned.

"Do you expect me to do something about it?" she demanded, just checking.

"**Can** you?" countered Cliff.

Nel responded with a lifted shoulder, not answering directly. There were reasons she made a good spy in spite of drawing the line at violating any tenants of Apris. Fortunately her god was a pragmatic one, as demonstrated by his willingness to take on three brides. Her ability to compromise ethical rules if justified by a favorable outcome did not contradict any of the teachings. Her god did forbid lying, but her burgeoning plan wouldn't require that of her. Most of the time, reflected Nel with a cold, private smile, withholding the full truth was all that needed to be done.

"Scar-**ee**," Cliff muttered. Nel glanced at him again, but he just grinned down at her, his face considerably less grim than it had been. "Claire says you won't be making the journey this time."

That was not **precisely**the truth... "My duty requires me to be elsewhere when you're scheduled to leave."

"Uh-huh." They both winced at the sound of another solid "thwack" from the grounds. Cliff lifted a hand behind his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, it's not like it will take all of us to pull Albel off of him. Just me, Maria and Mirage should be enough. I hope."

Nel's cold smile intensified. "You never know. Apris may yet provide." She nodded at him, turning away and walking back into the palace.

"Apris, eh?" Cliff grinned. "Somehow I don't think it's 'Apris' that Albel should be worried about."

Nel gave herself six hours lead time, figuring that although a single person would make better time than a group, fighting the monsters once she reached the Barr Mountains might be more time-consuming than with a group. In truth, she found the monsters easier to skirt when she was unaccompanied by the others, especially Fayt. He had many skills, but wilderness survival quite obviously was not part of whatever training was standard where he came from. Monsters would have to be deaf, blind and olfactory-challenged not to know he was in the area. Leaves found at the base of the mountains helped disguise her scent. The brown patches smearing her arms and legs fit no beauty ideal she knew, but that was hardly important. Her timing was the only thing that mattered. Fortunately her increased skill meant that the once-dangerous dragons of the region presented little threat to her now, and fighting the few she couldn't avoid as she made her way towards Crosell's lair consumed just enough time. When Nel finally paused at the mouth of the Lava Caves to run over the outline of her rough-and-ready plan, she estimated she was still an hour ahead of the others, assuming they left on time.

It would be enough.

Fights couldn't be avoided once Nel reached the lava-punctuated inner chambers. The monsters there blended in with the red-hued surroundings, darting in and out of fire-rimmed pools that would kill her if she so much as stood too close. Even given her elevated skill level, ambushes were always difficult to defend against and the fights were the hardest she had faced on her solitary journey. Despite working alone and undercover for years, she had become used to the advantages of working within a group. She vowed not to take her companions for granted as she reached the inner chamber that housed Crosell.

Within the dragon's lair the heat dropped, going from "insufferable" to "barely tolerable." The dancing lights of the outer caves leveled off to a steady red-tinged glow. Nel cast her gaze towards the deepest recesses of the cavern. On a ledge barely raised from the uneven floor the great dragon dozed (or slept, or hibernated; she wasn't sure how to tell the difference). Slightly in front of the dragon, back-lit by fires that she couldn't see from her vantage point, slouched a slim figure. One wrist was draped loosely over the jutting hilt of the katana; the other arm casually dangled. Albel glanced over his shoulder, supremely uninterested in who had invaded his privacy before the fire of the caves seemed to catch in his eyes. Pivoting sharply, he took several quick steps towards her.

Crossing her arms over her waist, "Still hiding yourself here, I see," Nel remarked coldly.

He stopped in his tracks, scrutinizing her intently. After a moment he gave a soft, disgusted 'hmph.' "You are still hiding, period, woman."

Nel put up her brows at that odd comment. She wasn't the one who used her hair as a shield. "Hiding from what, Albel? I'm right here in plain view."

There was a smoky snort from Crosell. Opening one slit-pupil eye, the ancient dragon rumbled, "She has you there, small one."

Without so much as a glance at the powerful being behind him, "If I want your opinion, you old windbag, I'll ask for it," snapped Albel.

"And if I need a quick snack," commented the dragon, closing its giant eye again, "I won't ask at all. It's so kind of you to stay in snapping distance, small one."

Albel snorted, shifting his weight over one leg and dropping his gaze to the ground, his customary strike-from-any-angle posture. Nel looked at his slender form, framed by the massive body of the dragon at the back of the cave. "You two are awfully chummy."

Albel shrugged. So did Crosell. A dragon shrugging was an interesting sight to see. "You're interrupting my training, woman. What do you want?"

"I have a question for you."

"Only one? How disappointing."

"Why me?"

"Why you what?"

"Why did you go after me? What do you need me for?"

"'Need'?" To her indignation Albel laughed, sharp and harsh. "'Need'," he repeated scornfully. "Want, sure. Love, even. But need? I don't 'need' anyone, woman."

Nel's own temper sparked at that. "Don't mock me. You aren't in love with me."

Albel gave her that sideways stare from under his bangs, the one where he tilted his head to the side as his expression conveyed that he couldn't believe how stupid some people were. Casually thumbing his katana hilt away from its sheath, he swung the blade up carelessly and tapped the dull end against his armored shoulder, something he often did when he was irritated. It would have alarmed most people, with reason. Instead of fear, Nel felt the hot rush of anticipation race through her veins. Her mad plan was working. "You should have told me using runology adversely affects hearing, Commander. I would have shouted it louder."

"If there's anything any good spy knows, it's that you can't trust what a man says during sex."

The leather and metal encasing his hand squeaked as fingers tightened on the blade's hilt. "**A** man, perhaps," he said coldly between tight lips. "What **ever** gave you the impression that **I** would lie under **any** circumstance?"

If she had been less focused on her ultimate goal, Nel would have been thrown off her stride. She heard, filed the information away for future examination, and concentrated on what else was present in his curt words. Jealousy? Perhaps. A useless emotion, but one she might be able to exploit. She pressed on. Slowly drawing the twin daggers from their sheaths, she sank into a battle crouch. "Fight me."

Although Albel's face maintained its usual impassive appearance, she thought she could discern a faint incredulous cast to his stoic expression as he lifted his head. "Fight **you**? You can **not** be serious."

"Quite serious. You're an obstacle to Fayt."

"And that matters to you – why, exactly?"

One corner of her mouth ticked up. "He's the only one who can prevent the destruction of the galaxy."

Albel snorted. Likely he didn't know what a "galaxy" was any more than she had a few weeks ago, but he would naturally assume anything that required Fayt to protect it probably deserved destruction. He might, just _might,_ change his mind once he understood that he was **in** the galaxy Fayt was trying to save, but she would have to force him into wider experiences for that to happen. Airyglyph males were conservative; 'force' was the operative word. "And," Nel added, studying his expression carefully, "I spent a lot of time with him while I was off-planet. I won't let you hurt him again, Nox."

He cast his gaze to the ground, his hand tightening and relaxing again against the leather-covered grip of the katana. _Jealousy, all right. Over that** boy**. Foolish. _The blade drifted down and slightly away from his body as Albel settled more firmly into the deceptively lazy preparatory battle stance, stare piercing her through the two-toned bangs. "Have you lost your mind?" The katana suddenly slashed in front of him. Nel swore she heard the molecules around Albel moan in protest. The dirt around her feet kicked up as a perfectly scored arc formed in the rock just beyond her toes, a reminder of what he could do with his attacks. "You **know** you're not in my class."

"You might be surprised at what I've learned."

"I won't hold back. I never do in a fight."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." With that, Nel lunged.

For a second she feared she'd over-estimated him, but her gutting twin strikes aimed towards his bare mid-riff were blocked by a down stroke of the katana. _Of course. The mid-section is an area he can easily defend, that's why he leaves it uncovered. Spend all your time trying to open his stomach and he'll take off your head._ There was another hint of air molecules screaming in abuse. Nel tucked a shoulder and rolled past him, feeling the edge of compressed air just over her head, sure she'd lost a few strands of hair as she heard the dull explosion of the attack's impact against one of the cave's walls. On one knee, she swept a dagger behind her without looking, and heard an annoyed grunt from Albel as he was forced to side-step rather than press his advantage. Any triumph she felt was snuffed immediately; a swipe of his armored arm slapped the palm of his gauntlet against the side of her face and neck. Nel's head snapped to the side as the metal-encased fingers tightened. Inexorable pressure forced her to her feet. Albel mashed her cheek into his shoulder guard, the sharpened fingertips of the gauntlet digging into her flesh. There was a pinprick of pressure just over her jugular; Nel knew he'd deliberately broken the skin in several places.

"Yield," suggested Albel, sounding bored.

_Too soon. _Perhaps she couldn't defeat him alone, but being beaten in two moves wouldn't accomplish anything either. She had to prolong the fight. Nel tilted her chin up, nearly bumping noses with him, and pressed her mouth over his.

It was a peck, nothing more.

With a different sort of man, it might have turned the fight into another direction. Passion and violence were sometimes closely linked, after all, and the first time he kissed her was after a fight.

She wasn't expecting that from Albel this time. As he said, he wasn't like other men. She was counting on that difference.

For a moment, time stilled. Albel's eyes glared directly into hers. She knew they were a rich, deep brown rather than the blood red her people whispered they were, but at that moment, as anger lit in them and the dancing crimson hue of the fire caves reflected off his pupils, she could see the origin of the myth. Nel shrugged out of his grip, turning in a deep knee bend to brace for his next attack. He didn't use his sword. Instead the palm of his armored arm struck her shoulder, driving through her defensive stance with a force powerful enough to send her flying. She struck the distant rock wall hard, air rattling painfully from her lungs. The whine of the katana strike was felt rather than heard. Instinctively she jerked to the side just enough. Rock chips pelted into the side of her face as the blade embedded itself a foot into the solid wall, scarce centimeters from her cheek. She ducked under his outstretched arm, pivoting as he jerked the blade free and spun to face her.

There was a pause as the dust from the shattered rock wall settled. Albel's harsh breathing was loud in the stillness. For an instant an angry grimace twisted his face before it smoothed into the customary battle mask, one sans the usual smirk. He was furious with her for bringing _that_ into the fight. It didn't belong. It was out of context. It wasn't **honorable**.

She was a spy. She didn't have to be honorable. She just had to make him lose control. And that was something she already knew she could do.

* * *

><p>For nearly half an hour, Nel managed to keep him busy.<p>

He landed more strikes, but none were clean. She worked on nicking him where she could, careful not to mark him in obvious places, settling for bruising blows against the armor when he caught on and started to guard against her tactics. Again, that played into her hands. Deep bruises under the armor were fine. He just couldn't **look** like he'd been in a fight. Her runology skills she saved for healing herself; deep frying him or pelting him with icicles would leave marks that wouldn't fade fast enough. Deception was the key here. The off-world battles she participated in made Nel much stronger than the only other time they directly crossed blades. To her annoyed surprise, though, Albel had experienced a like growth in abilities. She knew, intellectually, that he must have improved to defeat the powerful Fayt with such ease, but the reality was that his skill still far outmatched hers and his special sword attacks were potentially lethal.

Early in the fight she positioned herself with Crosell at her back, reasoning that Albel wouldn't do anything to bring the dragon into the contest and hoping that Crosell wasn't serious about seeing either of the humans as snacks. Angry as he was, Albel retained enough wit to avoid using large area attacks. Precision attacks in a confined space Nel could largely dodge. Soon he stopped using his special attacks altogether, like her relying upon classic fighting skills rather than extraordinary abilities. The exhilaration of pure technique took them both as the contest became a dance of parry and counter.

Pressing Nel closely, Albel forced her back. She dipped low, pivoting in a lunge as a leg swept out, meaning to trip him up and gain herself some fighting room, but her foot brushed against something unyielding, throwing her balance off. There was an annoyed grumble, a **crack** that didn't sound like any Albel-instigated attack she knew of, then quite suddenly she was air-borne, spinning out of control until the far wall stopped her rotation and she fell limply to the ground.

_Crosell_, she realized. _Dammit._

At the same instant as her own insight, Albel shouted, "Stay **out** of this, worm!"

"As amusing as your violent little courtship rituals are," said the dragon without so much as cracking an eye open, "I'm trying to sleep. If you want to mate so badly, boy, take your small female somewhere else and leave me in peace."

"Hmph," was all Albel had to say in response. There was the faint jingle of metal near her before his shadow covered her prone form. Albel dragged her off the ground by hooking one hand into her sleeveless tunic, pulling her to him exactly the same way he had the first time he kissed her. Except this time he bit down on her lower lip until she gasped in pain, then he took advantage of her open mouth by thrusting his tongue in even though he knew she didn't like kissing that way. Nel considered biting down but knew that would only make him angrier, so she instead opted for holding still and letting him have his way. Since he was expecting a struggle, that just annoyed him, but annoyance was better than anger. He pulled his head back and released his hold on her armor. Not expecting him to let go, Nel staggered and fell to one knee. He towered over her, one hand braced against his hip while the armored arm dangled, glowering as she began to laugh.

"What is so funny about losing, woman?"

"There's losing and there's **losing**. I've accomplished what I've set out to do."

He glared at her. "What, make me nearly kill you? And you thought I had an odd sense of foreplay."

"What the little female means," rumbled Crosell's voice from behind them, "is that we are not alone."

"What?" growled Albel, whirling around to transfer his glare to the great dragon.

"Oh, they aren't here quite yet, boy. But the one who challenged you and lost a few days back? He and his companions have entered the caves. I can smell them." He flicked his tail, once, before looping it across his face. "I suppose this means I won't get to sleep any time soon..."

Albel turned back to Nel, the expression on his face lethal. "You-!"

It hurt her ribs to laugh. Wrapping an arm around them for support, she laughed anyway. "Fayt nearly got you last time, didn't he? He will this time."

"Do you think this little charade will impede me? It took three of you at the same time to defeat me before, fool."

He hadn't called her that in months. Nel's amusement snuffed out. Rising, she braced her feet far apart, as much to maintain a balance that was precarious as a preparatory battle stance. "Why are you training here?"

He snorted. "To be the strongest, of course!"

"The strongest what?"

Albel's angry expression melted into confusion. Nel was proud that she could tell the difference; most people would not be able to read his face at all. "What are you babbling about? I didn't hit you on the head. Did I?"

He had, actually, more than once, but only glancing blows thanks to her agility. Anyway, that was not the issue. "There's no point to being the strongest **here**. Things are out there more powerful than anything you can possibly imagine. I've seen them, and I still can't believe they exist. You prove nothing by remaining here. Nothing. You want to be the strongest, you **have** to go with Fayt." Albel turned his head away, but she had become adept at reading the quicksilver changes in his cold-set face. "You **want** to go, don't you?"

"That boy will not defeat me!"

Shaking her head in disbelief, Nel finally understood why it was that Albel let Fayt go after their last fight. No matter how much he wanted to, Albel wouldn't **ask** to be included. That peculiar Airyglyph pride Albel wore like armor meant the swordsman would insist on being forced. A dead Fayt meant Albel would continued to be trapped here; a living one offered a chance at greater experiences. "Fayt **will** defeat you this time. You have to be at the top of your game for him, and you **aren't**."

"Brilliant," he said viciously, and, oddly, Nel could tell the compliment was sincere despite the vitriol that coated it. "I can't imagine he will thank you for this, though. Why did you cook up this little strategy?"

"Because," Nel said, speaking a truth she was not aware of until that moment, "I'm tired of being in the stars alone."

His eyes widened before he tilted his head forward to shield them. Nel grinned victoriously. She did not need to see what was in his eyes; the fact he felt the need to hide them told her all she needed to know. "I will not lose on purpose," he told her harshly.

Nel snorted, which considering the state of her ribs wasn't too smart, and repeated what she said at the beginning of the fight. "I wouldn't have it any other way." Turning her back on him, she limped to the darkest part of the cavern, leaning against the wall and tilting her head down, blending in with the shadows until she all but disappeared from view. After a long pause, Albel sheathed his sword and took up a post next to Crosell, his stance casual, nothing indicating that he had just fought a hard-contested battle.

They exchanged no further words, but only waited.

* * *

><p>There were no greetings when Fayt and the others arrived in Crosell's lair. The party halted as one at the entrance of the cavern. After a pause, the young man strode to the platform where Crosell lay napping, his face cold and set with purpose. Albel stood in front of the platform, his back pointedly turned, one hand resting casually on the hilt of the katana while the armored arm hung loosely. Fayt stopped, drawing his sword without a word. The scrape of the metal against the scabbard was surprisingly loud in the echoing cavern.<p>

For another long moment, Albel continued to ignore the other man. Finally he looked over his shoulder, fixing Fayt with a scornful glare. "Ready for another try, fool?"

~end~


End file.
